Freak Like Me
by Cythwyn
Summary: Tormented her entire life by a mysterious Dark Templar, then beaten and left for dead, Isha is found by an ex-Ghost and tries to put her life back together. Originally an RP between me and a good friend of mine, admiral-squee at deviantart; smoothed over.
1. Chapter 1

He'd done it.

He stood in the middle of Mar Sara City's space port, shocked that he'd made it this far. His faded synth-leather jacket and messy brown shock of hair ruffled wildly in the gusty wind. Over his shoulder was an old tote bag, filled with what meager belongings he had to his name.

Then again, he didn't really _have_ a name... One that he could remember, anyway. He'd always been called "Number 27," and the only part of his birth name he could recall was the first syllable, "Zak."

He left the port in his own unique fashion, avoiding all guards, public exits, and security cameras. If anyone tried to ring up his identity, they'd get a blank file. However, if his face showed up anywhere and the Program happened to get a glimpse of it... then he was more or less screwed.

He wandered aimlessly in the endless dusty landscape around the city, knowing that he'd have to go into the city some time or another for supplies, but too worried about being caught to care. Maybe he could bunk outside under a rock or something, and live off various shrubs and insects...

There it was—a sudden oily slick sliding through his consciousness. He shuddered; he had never felt anything like it before. As soon as it had appeared, it was gone, and he felt relief, but...

Something was still out there, and he knew he wouldn't get any rest until he found out what. Allowing his instincts to guide him, he headed out even further from the city, its lights already beginning to flicker on as night approached.

He must have walked a good five kilometers when he found her.

A girl, obviously injured and mal-nourished, was out cold amongst the sand and rocks. Her dark, scraggly hair contrasted sharply with her pale, dry skin, and her nails were long and cracked. Zak felt a growing uneasiness as he walked towards her.

"Kid," he whispered as he cautiously knelt down beside her, "kid, can you hear me?"

----------  
Pain, there was pain everywhere... Isha coughed, the sound ripping through her throat and causing more blood to rise to her mouth. She spat it out with more mucus and coughed again, easing a rattled breath out of her bruised lungs. Just beyond her consciousness, she felt a dark presence—her Master—watch her calmly, that telltale mocking smile on his otherwise featureless face and sadistic mind, then turn away. He didn't expect her to live.

Then she was alone, alone sprawled amongst what felt like rocks, broken and bleeding. What had she been thinking? She had _attacked_ her Master, tried to _kill_ him, and now... she would die, she would die in the agony that had plagued her all her life, whether it be relatively quickly from her horrible wounds, or slowly and painfully by the lack of her curse, her drug. Already she could feel it wear on her insides. She would need it in a few hours... if not... she would go mad...

She didn't know how long she lay there, life slowly slipping out of her body. But presently she felt something touch her; no, touch her mind; someone new... who?

The presence neared. Isha tried to move as a very real person crouched near her. "Kid... kid, can you hear me?"

Was it going to help her? Isha moved again, trying to convey that she was alive. "Hhhhh..." she rasped. "Hhhhh... help... please..."  
----------  
"H-h-help... Please..."

It was only the faintest gurgle, but there was no question that the kid had spoke. Zak knew she probably wouldn't make it unless he did _something..._

...Funny. Nobody had ever helped _him..._ What difference would it make of the kid lived or died? He might as well just leave her here and save himself the trouble...

Pushing his cynical thoughts aside, he reached into his tattered bag, pulling out one of his three remaining medkits.

"All right, kid, just hold still. I'm gonna see what I can do."

He reached slowly for her sickeningly thin wrist, every movement careful as if he was in a world of glass.

"Just hold still, okay?"

He gingerly felt for her pulse... and fell into a realm of twisted shadows and wrenching pain.

_He's coming! He's coming and he's going to kill me and I'm going to kill him and I need him I need my poison I'm gonna die I'm gonna—_

"Shit!" He drew back like she was on fire, reality slowly materializing around him. His cold gray eyes were wide with horror, focused on the tortured soul that lay before him.

"What the hell _happened_ to you, kid?!"

"He did," she rasped. _"He_ did... he'll... he'll... come... back..." She shuddered, her back arching with pain, then fell quiet again. It was getting dark, but her luminescent eyes cut through the darkness easily, an ability that the poison had given to her—_"...please..."_ Begging had never come hard to her; she had learned very quickly to beg by her Master—

_"No Master stop please, no no no no—"_

Another cough burbled up in her throat and she spat again, the simple movement shaking her thin body and sending waves of pain back through her.

Who was she kidding? The man wouldn't help her. No one would help her. No one. Why would they? She was nothing, as her Master was apt to put it, nothing. She didn't deserve to live...

Isha closed her eyes, trying to shut out the world and the pain. _Just die... just lie down and die..._

A sob escaped her. _Time to die, little nothing,_ she could almost hear him say. _Time to die._  
----------  
_No... Master, please..._

_Die, just lie down and die..._

Her thoughts were drowning him—her pain, her fear, everything drilled into his mind. It was too strong to block out, too horrifying to defend against.

Grasping desperately on to his own consciousness, Zak pushed as hard as he could against the hellish onslaught. He'd made up his mind—the kid needed help, and he'd take all her agony could offer to give it.

_Shut it out, shut it out,_ he thought to himself as he unwrapped a sterilized strip of gauze and tore open a package of antibiotics. He gritted his teeth and went to work dressing her wounds, all the while enduring the hell raging inside the girl's mind. A lurking phantom faded in and out of his consciousness—the memory of the girl's "Master."

After what seemed like an eternity later, he sat gasping for breath next to her, sweat pouring from his forehead in massive beads. The nightmarish visions had faded somewhat, but he knew there were still there swirling beneath the girl's bruised brow.

"Dammit, kid," he wheezed, "you are pretty fucked up."  
----------  
The man was helping her...

Why?

She was nothing.

The man expertly shifted her so as to get to her other side, his hands gentle as he felt her over for broken bones. She whimpered when he hit one, one hand clutching the rocks around her. She struggled against the physical and mental pain, trying to tilt her head back to look at him again, and tried to pull her thoughts together long enough to form a single sentence. It was so hard... it was all just pain and more pain...

Finally the man sat beside her, leaning against a rather large rock and mopping his brow. "Dammit, kid," she barely heard him say. "You are pretty fucked up."

_That_ startled her, enough to make her force out a little choked laugh, which made her hurt all the more.

But...

She could manage one word: _"Why...?"_  
----------  
The girl's head turned, her inhuman eyes slowly returning to life. "Why," she croaked, then coughed again, a trickle of blood and mucus rolling down her cheek.

Zak huffed, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. He bent over her again and wiped the bloody mix from her face. She winced as the cloth made contact, tried to move away, then whimpered when her ravaged body failed to move.

"I'm not sure what happened to you, kid, but you've got guts." Zak shook his head, wiping his brow again. "Shit like that would've killed a normal person, but you aren't exactly normal, are you?" An exhausted, lopsided grin hung loosely on his hawk-like face, his wild hair plastered flat against his head with sweat.

He could feel her surprise; he wouldn't believe it either had he been in the situation. Looking at her, he realized just how _abnormal_ she was—her skin seemed to turn into scales in places, and her eyes were whitish-blue and pupil-less. He had no idea how old she was; she could be anywhere between fifteen and twenty-five.

Fragments of her memories still swam in Zak's mind. He shuddered involuntarily and pushed them aside. Whatever had done this to her sure as hell wasn't human, and frankly he felt better not pondering it.

"So, kid," he said as calmly as he could, "have you decided to live after all or what?"

_Have you decided to live after all or what?_

What an odd question. She stared at him, perplexed, for a moment forgetting her pain. How in the world was she to decide that? She had no control in whether she lived or died. That was her Master's forte.

The man was still looking at her, a lopsided smile on his tired but roguish face. "I..." she began, confused, then swallowed. "Do... you... water. Have water?" Her mouth was clogged with blood and mucus and she couldn't speak properly; the water would hopefully help with that, not to mention that she was _thirsty_. And hungry, but it didn't look like he had food on him...

...and if he did; he probably wouldn't give her any, despite the fact that he had just saved her life.

"Wait... who... who are you?" she whispered, forcing the words out. "And why...?"

"Name's Zak," he said simply, "and that's all you need to know." He produced a bottle from his tote—no doubt appearing as a magic bag of tricks to the girl, and screwed it open. "It's not water, but it's got plenty of vitamins and electrolytes. It should be enough to get you on your feet."

She didn't move, eyeing the bottle warily. Zak felt her suspicion.

"It's not poison. I promise. Go on, take it."

He offered it to her, and held it for her when her shaking hands failed to grab hold. She drank slowly, each sip bringing stinging pain and blessed relief.

Part of him realized that was his last bottle, but he didn't care. The kid needed it more, anyway.

_When the hell did you start caring about anybody, anyway?_ he asked himself, then shook his head. It was just one kid—one lonely, screwed up little kid...  
----------  
She closed her eyes and nearly wept with the relief the liquid gave her. It was like soothing a burn with cool water; the sensation was about the same as the liquid poured down her parched throat. Only after she was finished did she realize what he had said, and paused to look at him again.

"Isha," she whispered. "I am... Isha." She gave him a slight smile, the first she had ever given anybody for years... how many she didn't even know. "And that is... all you need... to know." Bracing her palms on the ground, she thrust forward, trying to stand, but agony exploded throughout her body and she fell heavily to the ground once more.

Strong arms grabbed her waist, lifting her malnourished body easily into the air and she squeaked with surprise. Once on her feet (steadied by his arms; she could no more stand than could a newborn), she glanced up at him, hope rekindling in her breast. She had found somebody; rather he had found _her_, and she wasn't going to die; her Master was wrong—

Well, not all at once anyway, and he wasn't wrong, not really. She might still die of the lack of that drug he gave her and so often liked to torture her with, sometimes giving too little or too much and denying the release.

The realization hit her again; she swayed dangerously. She _was_ going to die; she was going to waste away as fire ate her insides and madness consumed her mind...

"Watch it!" He steadied her as she tipped forward. It had scared him—the sudden rush of bloodlust that had spiked in her mind. What was it? Stims? No, something different. She longed for something... a drug? Why? What was wrong with this kid? Who—_what_ the hell was this "master" her mind kept falling back on?

She was shaking, and he tried to grip tighter to help stop it, but realized it was _he_ that was shaking.

She was going to snap. Snap and lash out and try to kill everything and totally forget she was human...

When she did, he would have to kill her.

"Isha, right?" He said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Isha, you stay with me, okay? You're not gonna go crazy. Stay with me and don't go crazy, all right?"

He picked her up, feeling odd at having do so, and carried her in his arms toward the distant lights of the city.

"I'll find you a place to crash for the night, and in the morning we'll figure things out, but for now, just keep quiet, okay? I'm trying to lay low... some old friends of mine have a score to settle." He thought bitterly of the Program—there was no question that they'd be looking for him. He couldn't let them find him, now more than ever.  
----------

He was talking, holding her tightly, and she felt herself moving even though she wasn't... stay with me, stay with me...

Why? Why would he care? They had only _just_ met and he was trying his best to help her; she could feel, for some reason, a strange protectiveness covering everything he did. The way he touched her, the way he cradled her in his arms, but _why?_ He didn't even know her!

Slowly, by the swaying in his arms and his constant whispering to her to stay with him, don't go crazy, she was rocked to sleep...

----------

"Thirty creds, you gonna pay or what?"

The man at the counter was fat, greasy, and smelled strongly of cheap cigarettes. The hotel reflected its owner—greasy and smelly. He didn't ask any questions, thought, so long as you gave him the money.

"Yeah, here you go. I just need a place for my sister." Zak handed over a paper certificate, the kind hardly used anymore but amazingly still legal tender, and headed up the creaking steps to the room. As he left, he caught the edge of the greasy man's thoughts.

_... Comes in here with some sob story about his sick sister... probably a damn rapist or something... paying with paper..._

At least he'd mind his own business. Zak gingerly set the girl down on the bed, careful not to wake her. Her breathing was back to normal, and her mind gave no hints of the madness he had glimpsed before.

"Sleep tight, kid," he grunted as he threw his coat into a corner and set his bag down next to the bed. He sat down in a rather uncomfortable chair, putrid with imitation tobacco, and closed his eyes. He wouldn't fall asleep, not with the Program after him and this weird girl in his custody, but a bit of rest wouldn't hurt.

She'd go crazy, and then he'd have to kill her.

The thought kept coming back, an omen of the inevitable.

He'd killed dozens before; why would this be any different?

He'd ran away from the killing. That's what was different.

Besides, the kid needed him...  
----------  
She woke to the fire inside of her.

Isha's eyes snapped open, staring blankly in front of her, not even registering to her surroundings. Her body was rigid and feverish, sweat soaking the covers around her. She would need it soon. Very, very soon. She tried to think back, tried to remember the schedule of things and when she last took it. This level of need meant she would need it in an hour, maybe less. Or else...

Her Master liked to sometimes taunt her with it, hanging the needle in front of her face just out of reach. He'd watch her mind slowly deteriorate, slowly dissolve with the torture and wild need until she was on the knife's edge of madness, then give it to her so she would collapse with relief... but...

He wasn't here now. And he had thrown her away, like a rag doll, like a piece of trash or a toy that had worn out. And she didn't have it with her.

"Zak..." her voice tore through her throat; she jerked her head up, trying to find him with wide, panicked eyes. "...Zak, please, Zak, help me..."

Zak was on his feet in an instant. He'd fallen asleep for perhaps ten minutes, and mentally kicked himself for it. Isha was in a tangle beneath the grungy sheets, lying in a pool of her own sweat. He could feel the burning inside of her, so strong that it hurt.

She gaped up at him helplessly, twitching and trembling uncontrollably. She was begging, begging...

"Kid, I... I don't know..."

"Help me..."

He couldn't help her; they both knew it. Isha'd snap, and it would all be over. He couldn't save her.

But that wouldn't stop him from trying.

He approached her like a cornered animal. When he spoke, he used quiet, even tones.

"You've gotta pull though this, kid. I can't help you by myself."

Though the turmoil of her mind, he could feel a time bomb inside her—ticking... ticking...

"You tell me what to do, Isha. Tell me how to save you."

She knew what would save her. She knew the only thing that could help her was her drug, her poison, her curse. But she didn't have it. Her Master did, and there was no way to get it from him even if they _did_ know where he was, or how to get it from him.

"I need it," she sobbed. Her long, cracked clawlike fingernails shredded the sheets tangled up with her legs; her eyes burned shockingly blue as she jerked and twisted, pleading with him. "I need it!"

She didn't want to die! She had survived so much—she didn't want to die here, now; after she had finally rid herself of her Master's clutches!

"I don't want to die," she croaked, voicing her thoughts; Zak just looked at her with sad eyes. "Please don't let me go... I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to die! Please, please..." her back arched in a spasm, the burning intensifying for a second.

Zak, her savior, had reached the bed and held her hand as she shuddered and jerked. He said nothing; he didn't need to: his presence was comforting enough, and for a split second she wondered how she could possibly learn to trust him so much...she barely knew him... and she needed it, she needed it...

"Stay with me?" she gasped, barely able to breathe. "I don't want to be alone..."

"Okay. I'll stay with you."

It was all he could do. The drug she needed was in the hands of that _thing,_ and Zak knew he'd never get his hands on it. If he shut his eyes, he'd see it... the inhuman tormentor that was both vividly real and eerily evanescent.

Isha's breathing kept getting worse, and her grip would suddenly tighten, leaving bloody scratches on his hand, then loosen again, over and over.

_Comfort her,_ he told himself, _do something, anything!_

He sighed and closed his eyes, then began slowly, "Kid..."

"You wanted to know why I helped you."

She showed no signs of hearing him, but he detected a flicker of recognition in her mind. _Yes... please..._

"I know what it's like to be screwed over. I was used, too. I was their toy, doing whatever they told me _whenever_ they told me, and I never fought back."

He held on to her hand with both of his, feeling her blood run cold. Was he really helping her, or was he merely prolonging the inevitable?

"I killed for them, Isha. I killed and I spied and I hunted, and the targets weren't always guilty. I took down innocent people, all in the name of justice..."

He looked at her face, twisted in pain, her eyes shut tight against her own inner demons. She was losing the battle. He brushed her hair from her forehead, her skin crawling and cold.

"Too many people got screwed over. You don't need to be one of them."

It was the best thing she had ever heard in her life.

She smiled at him, or tried to; it was no more than a tightening of her lips. "Zak..."

_You have the power to change,_ she wanted to say, but she was choking, dying, and couldn't say another word. She didn't. She knew she wouldn't survive this. She couldn't possibly live without her poison; she had no life ahead of her to change. She wanted him to know this. She wanted him to understand.

The burning inside of her grew, but she was strangely cold. Darkness rose up into her mind; darkness and madness, an epitome of her sadistic Master. Flashes of memory surfaced, not pertaining to anything at all—

_Her father held onto her mother's throat, squeezing and shaking for all he was worth, madness in his eyes—he sat on the floor after—"Don't look, Isha, don't watch—" "No! DADDY!"—She awoke and there was blood all over her; all over the floor; she could feel his presence behind her, laughing softly in triumph—She writhed under him as he thrust and groaned, screaming and begging—Zak held her hand—_

Isha looked up at him, the split second before madness. "Zak," she forced out, "don't let me die."

Then she snapped.

It was like someone had flipped a switch inside her.

She was on him, screaming like an animal and tearing at his flesh. He felt hot blood everywhere —his face, his arms, his chest...

It was hard to believe that this monster was only seconds before a sick, helpless kid, teetering on the edge of death. Her madness permeated through his mind, eating away at his own sanity. In the shock of it all her memories rushed in, becoming his own.

Her parents...

Her poison...

Her master.

Zak focused on the image of the demonic being. Years of special training came flooding back to him, instinct taking over. No way would he ever let that bastard win!

He pulled her off, surprised at how strong she was. He threw her across the bed, and her arm clipped a lamp, sending it crashing to the floor. She landed catlike on the floor on the other side of the bed, her eyes burning with a cold, murderous light. Zak stared back at her coolly; his body crouched in a solid combat stance.

"I don't want to kill you, Isha," he uttered in an unfamiliar, monotone voice. "So don't give me the option."

She circled, lips curled back in a maniacal grin, unnatural eyes fixed upon him. He turned, pivoting on his heel to watch her, now pure Ghost.

She lunged.

He blocked.

She punched.

He parried.

They circled again. Isha was no longer there; all that was left was a cold killer, in essence, her Master. It was like he had taken over, shoving her mind into the darkest recesses of his own and fighting with her body.

She was on him again, cutting and twisting and tearing. He offered her a chop to the throat, hard enough to incapacitate her—she staggered back, but shook her head and continued, ignoring her starved and weakened body. _Kill, KILL!_

Isha screamed inwardly, struggling. She didn't want to kill Zak; she didn't want to hurt anyone, especially him, someone who had taken care of a sick child with no thought to his own welfare. It was only a split-second thought, a split-second struggle, and it was over as soon as it came. She attacked again.

Zak smirked inwardly. It was ironic, really—both of them had given in to their own killer instinct. Neither truly wanted to hurt the other, much less _kill_ them, but they fought none the less.

She was a tough kid. She was obviously getting fatigued, but kept right at it, unaware of her growing weakness. All he had to do was wait...

_For what,_ he asked himself, _for her to kill herself?_

The momentary hesitation was all she needed. In a blur, she was at him again. Her nails dug into his arm, drawing even more blood. Zak didn't feel it, but simply took note of the injury. He still had to be careful; Isha could easily slip though an opening and knick a precious artery. Better to end it, and fast.

He kicked her squarely in the chest, causing her to stagger backwards. He couldn't help but be amazed that she was still standing. However, the wind had been knocked out of her, giving him the perfect opportunity. A quick punch to the side of the head, and she was out like a light.

"Sorry, kid, but you'll thank me later."

He stood over her bleeding form, his pulse slowing back to a steady beat. She'd scared him... her bloodlust had scared him. He had never felt that insane hunger before, not even in himself...

He shoved his fears aside. Whatever. He'd deal with it later. First, he had to tend to her wounds... again. And then there was the added bonus of his own injuries...

_Just one little adventure after another,_ he thought sarcastically, opening his bag and pulling out his last two remaining medkits.

----------

Her head throbbed.

It hurt to breathe. If Isha felt around her chest she could feel at least two cracked ribs and a massive bruise on her temple. Her throat was dry and parched.

She cracked a sticky eyelid open. She was in a stinky, greasy, smelly room in a stinky, greasy, smelly bed.

Slowly she turned, slipping out from underneath the covers, and placed her feet on the floor. At that time she realized she was once more covered with bandages.

She felt—strange. Empty. There was something she needed, wanted, but... she couldn't place her finger on it. At that moment her stomach rumbled and Isha focused this need to that: food. Hunger.

"Zak?" she whispered. No answer.

"Zak?" Now she was frightened. She tottered around the room like a toddler just learning how to use her legs, trying to find him.

"Zak, please, where are you...?" She crouched near the chair, folding up in herself. He was gone. He had left her. She was alone.

Isha began to cry.

----------  
Zak trudged up the stairs, slipping the pistol back under his shirt.

He hadn't wanted to kill the man, but he didn't have much of a choice. The hotel owner had stumbled in upon the little episode with Isha, and had threatened to call the cops. Zak tried to convince him otherwise, but...

His name was Dick Rese. His boy had gone to join the army and he'd never heard from him since. His last thoughts were of how he'd never get to see his boy again—

_Stop it,_ Zak told himself, _just shut it out. You've done it a hundred times before..._

He made it up the stairs and leaned against the wall, collecting his thoughts. _Relax. Get over it._ He exhaled slowly, pushing the man's memory from his mind. Now he'd have to find a different place to hide...

The poor kid. She needed time to recuperate, and now he'd gone and made it worse for her by destroying perhaps the last safe haven they could find...

He opened the door to the room, and found her sobbing at the foot of the bed.

"ZAK!"

She lunged to her feet, bolted to the other side of the room, and slammed into him, wrapping her arms around his midsection.

"Zak, I thought—I thought you left me—"

It wouldn't have been the first time someone had left her, but this one had hurt. It had _hurt_. She clutched him hard, feeling him stiffen, not wanting to let go. She could tell that he was uncomfortable and bewildered, but held him all the more. "I thought..."

"Kid," he muttered, resting his hands on her shoulders, pushing away gently. She squeezed harder, crying into his jacket.

"Don't, please, don't leave me like that again..."

He shook his head, patting her lightly on the back.

"Jeez, kid, I can't take my eyes offa you for one second, can I?"

He was amazed at how powerful her emotions were. No one had ever—_ever_—had any sort of attachment to him. It was an odd feeling, and it made him feel... _warm_...

They were both silent for a while. Zak's thoughts drifted back to the night before, when the same girl that now clung to him so desperately had tried to _kill_ him...

Whatever. What mattered was the here and now.

"Hey, Isha," he said, grinning and looking down at her. "How about we ditch this dump and go get some breakfast?"

FOOD?!

Her eyes lit up. _Foodfoodfood!_ She nodded eagerly. "Yes!"

She paused. Something was lingering on his mind; she could see it in his eyes. "Zak? What's wrong?"

The muscles in his arms tightened, but he said nothing. She looked up at him.

"Zak... I... I'm not telepathic, but... what's wrong?"

He moved away and she bit her lip, hating herself for bringing it up and casting around for something else to say. "Do..." she looked down at herself. "I dunno what people would think if I wandered around in rags and bandages..."

A strange pang of the emptiness thudded through her again, suddenly, and she shivered. There was something she needed...

"Zak?"

----------  
It was still there... crawling just beneath her skin...

It would happen again. He didn't know when or where, but she'd snap again and then...

How many times could he play with both their lives in his hands?

And Dick Rese... He hadn't deserved it at all. How many other people's lives would he have to take to save her?

He didn't want to think about it. He picked up his bag and threw it on the bed. "Yeah, I guess we'd better do something about those rags of yours, huh?" He pulled out a white shirt and handed it to her. "A bit big on you, but it's all I've got. You can have the coat, too. It's over in the corner. Damn windy on this planet; you'll need it."

Her eyes were staring at the floor, brows knitted in concern.

"Zak..."

He whirled around to face her. "Look, there's some shit goin' down that I'd rather not talk about, okay?" He zipped his bag and threw it over his shoulder, wincing slightly—she'd bit him there, and he hadn't had enough bandages. He headed towards the door, then stopped, noticing she wasn't following.

"Well, are you coming?"

Isha flinched, taking a step back. Her voice was a whisper. "Yes... I'm coming." She threw the shirt over her head, wincing as her head gave a painful throb. Over that went the jacket, and she trudged after him, staring at the floor.

_Do you want it, my little pet?_

She shuddered, trying to block out the sound of her Master's voice, always haunting her.

_Reach for it... ahhh, time's up, you won't have it today..._

She looked around for something else to think about. Zak. Why was he being like this?

She stopped. Something lay just beyond that door to their right. She wasn't telepathic just as she had claimed, but sometimes she knew things...

Zak kept walking, but she reached out a hand to touch the door handle and _pushed_...

There was a _dead body_ there. There was a hole in the middle of its forehead.

Isha cried out, staggering backwards. Of course she had seen death, having committed murder, but that had been years ago—and this body was fresh, it had happened just a few minutes ago... right when she was sleeping.

She had been sleeping when this man was murdered.

"Isha!"

Zak ran back and slammed the door. Isha stood there, shocked, her eyes wide and watering.

"I... He saw you go crazy, all right? He was going to turn us both in, and who knows what would have happened to you? We need to leave now, okay?"

"You—" she turned to him. "You _murdered_ him!"

"Isha..."

"You killed him! You could have just—just—knocked him out or something, you didn't need to murder him, he's done nothing! He did nothing!" she sobbed, pushing away from him. "You killed him!"

_"What have I done?" her father whispered, staring at his bloody hands. "Oh god... Isha, Isha baby..." He scrabbled around for his pistol. "Don't look, Isha, don't watch—"_

"I had no fucking _choice,_ damn it!" he roared.

His face felt hot, and it was getting hard to breathe. She was scared, no, _horrified_, and crying her heart out. He felt something wet on his cheek. Was he crying, too?

"Look, I didn't want to kill him! I didn't want to hurt _anybody!_ Do you know what would've happened if he called the police or something? The whole damn _army_ is coming after me and as soon as somebody recognizes my face I'm as good as dead! And you, do you know what they'd do to _you?_ They'll only kill you if you're lucky! I don't want to risk it, understand? I... don't want..."

He could barely breathe through his own pathetic sobs. He fell to his knees, embracing the girl in his shuddering arms.

"I don't want to lose you. I don't want to go back to that _hell_ they have waiting for me."

His grip tightened, and his head fell on her shoulder. It was the first time he could remember crying.

They embraced each other for the longest time. Isha held him tightly. He was crying, he was crying and it was all her fault...

"Zak, Zak, please don't cry, I'm sorry, I..." she shuddered, clutching him. "I'm so sorry, please stop crying..."

She understood that something important was happening here, she understood that he was in pain and was actually doing something about it, but it hurt so _much_ to see him cry, it hurt so much to watch him sob into her shoulder...

"I'm sorry," she cried. "I'm so sorry, I won't say anything again, I promise..."

Her stomach rumbled. She nudged him, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, I... why don't we... go get breakfast like we said we would?"

"Breakfast. Yeah. Good idea."

Zak got up shakily, not understanding the maelstrom of unfamiliar emotions inside him. "And it's not your fault, kid." He smiled weakly, one hand on her cheek. "Don't ever think it's your fault."

Out in the streets of the city, the wind was somewhat blocked by the tall buildings around them.

"Keep your eyes on the ground; don't draw any attention to yourself."

Zak's pace was slow; Isha's wounds had not yet healed, and he didn't want her to be too hard on herself. A few people glanced at them with pity or uncertainty, their eyes on the various bandages and wounds that covered both their bodies.

"Ignore 'em. As long as we don't cause trouble, they'll leave us alone."

A small corner shop displayed a wide variety of baked goods in its windows. They were all sorts of shapes and sizes—pies and muffins and...

Zak paused. "What do you say to a treat? On me."

"But... what are they?"

Isha stared in wonder at the pies and cakes, cupcakes and crullers. The most food _she'd_ ever gotten was whatever her Master threw at her, which usually wasn't very much.

"Can I have that?" she pointed to a croissant that sat on a display case. "I don't know what it is, but it looks good..."

"Sure thing, kid. Just don't eat too fast; you'll make yourself sick."

They entered, the shop door giving a light tinkle. He let her hold his hand, knowing she wasn't used to being around so many people. The freckled woman behind the desk glanced at them uneasily.

"Rachel here wanted to go rock climbing for her birthday," Zak stated, jerking his head in Isha's direction.

"Oh," the woman said. "Didn't go too well, I take it."

"Not really, but it was pretty fun, right, Rae?"

Isha looked up at him, slightly confused, then nodded.

"Anyway, can I help you?"

"Yeah, can I get one of those croissants over there? Some coffee, too, if you have any."

The woman nodded, then turned to fill a styrofoam cup from the coffee machine, wrapped a croissant in a bit of paper, then rang it up on an old-fashioned cash register, the kind that dinged when it opened.

"Four credits twenty."

Zak dug into his pocket. "You take paper?"

The woman shrugged. "Sure."

Zak handed over the money, and in turn was handed the coffee and roll. He guided Isha to a table in the back, amused at her captivation in her surroundings.

"Remember, eat slow," he said, handing her the croissant.

"Thanks!" she started to wolf it down, but at Zak's warning frown slowed down.

It was HEAVEN ON EARTH. She had never tasted anything so good.

She beamed up at him. "Thank you," she said again, and she wasn't just talking about the croissant; she was talking about everything.

Zak took to quietly sipping his coffee and staring off into space, but even when gazing off into nothing he looked deadly. That was what it was... he was deadly, a deadly person who could kill.

Uneasiness swept through her just as she was finishing her last bite. She turned.

There, across the street was a small nondescript little man. But as she watched, he slowly turned his head to stare at her with cold, flat eyes...

"Z-Zak?" she choked. "Who—who is that?"

He turned to follow her gaze, and felt his heart skip a beat. They'd found him. After all he'd done to escape, they'd found him again.

"Time to go," he said, grabbing Isha roughly by the arm, ignoring her gasp as he hauled her to her feet.

The man across the street locked eyes with him. He started to cross, ever so casually, his face expressionless.

Zak walked at a brisk pace, uncomfortable for Isha, but he didn't care. The man's essence was close enough to feel—he was a psych, and a strong one, too. Zak could feel him reading his thoughts, learning his secrets, his weaknesses...

_Don't try running,_ Zak heard the Ghost whisper in his head.

_See if you can stop me,_ he thought back. He broke into a sprint, dragging Isha behind him. He heard her whimpering behind him, her breath growing short and labored.

He didn't need to look back to know he was being followed.

Zak knew what the man would do—he'd wait until they were away from the crowds, and then...

Isha was falling behind.

"Come _on,_" he barked. He yanked on her arm again, knowing it hurt her, knowing they'd both die if he didn't.

He needed cover. Anything! Where...

There! A pair of dumpsters, just high enough to crouch behind! He leapt between them, taking Isha with him. He panted heavily, pulling the gun from under his shirt.

"Isha, you stay here."

He leapt back out into the street. There was a bang, several screams, and then he was back, pulling Isha to her feet, picking her up in his arms.

He ran faster than he ever had before, weaving in and out of startled passerby, running and running and running...

He stopped, breathing heavily. He set Isha down, nearly dropping her, then collapsed against a dirty concrete wall.

"Isha... can you open my bag, please? There's a couple things in there I think we're gonna need."

Isha nodded, and carefully zipped open the tattered old bag.

Inside, beneath the clothing and other harmless objects, was a folded-up black cloth, odd pieces of gadgetry, and a long, glistening, murderous rifle.

With trembling fingers Isha picked up the savage piece of machinery. Her body ached from running, and her arm had a new bruise on it. "H-here..." she panted, lifted it, holding it carefully out for him. He grasped it, checking it over expertly, and she shuddered again when she looked at his eyes. They were just as flat and blank as the other man's.

More people were going to die, maybe even Zak! She huddled against the wall, picking at the odd gadgets. One was some sort of helmet with goggles... if she did _this_ some sort of laser flipped on.

Zak hissed at her to stop and she immediately withdrew her hand. What would happen if they were caught? Would they both die? Or would they be... experimented on, like she had been for the past several years? Shaking, Isha watched Zak's outline as he waited silently. He was doing something with his hands, but she couldn't see, probably prepping the rifle or something.

"Do... do you need this?" she whispered, lifting the strange suit out of the bag.

Zak took the suit from her. It felt cool, slick, and wonderfully familiar in his hands. It was part of him, his body, his soul, his entire being.

"You might want to turn around," he said flatly. "I can't really wear much under this—it'll screw with the sensors."

Isha quickly about-faced. Zak stood, shed his sweat-soaked garments, and began to put on the black suit. It made him feel whole again, the oily, smooth material like a second skin.

"Okay, you can turn around if you want."

Isha obeyed, and watched Zak transform into a different entity entirely.

His hands worked quickly and expertly, moving independently of his own will. Various buckles clicked into place, and he strapped on his chest plate, boots, gloves, utility belt, combat knife, personal cloak...

"You know, half of this stuff had trackers installed. I had a lot of fun removing 'em. Heh." He temporarily glanced up at Isha, his lips set in a hollow, lifeless grin.

And finally, the helmet. He slipped it on over his head, reuniting with his old friend. Innumerable sensors hummed in his ear, and before his eyes sprang to life the statistics and readouts he had felt blind without.

He was complete. This is what he was; this is what he was _meant_ to be.

"So, kid," he said, his voice electronically distorted though the mouthpiece, as he slid his rifle into its place on his back, "what do you think?"

Isha was totally freaked out.

The man she had known for only a day but she felt she had known all her life was now a cold killer.

Her eyes were wide as he fixed the suit. "Erm... nice?" she squeaked. "What... what's wrong with your voice? And—" she jumped at least a foot in the air as he stepped to the side and—

—vanished.

"Z...Zak?"

He decloaked behind her. She jumped and screamed, then threw empty bag at him, calling him a wide variety of curses and dirty names.

"Hey, hey, relax, Isha!" He put his gloved hands up, palms facing forward. He could feel her thoughts—she was afraid of him. Terrified. He crouched down next to her.

"Just remember it's me under here, okay?"

She glared at him, both scared half to death and angry at him for his little prank.

He sighed. Poor kid. "Would you like me to take the mask off?"

"Um... yeah."

He removed the helmet, his hair even messier than usual. He tucked it under his arm, then beamed at the girl.

"Better?"

"Yeah."

He stood up, then helped Isha do the same. She was still scared, but not as much as before. She knew what he was now. She knew what he was capable of.

_I guess we're even,_ he thought to himself.

"Okay, kid, here's the deal. They know I'm here now, so I can't afford to be seen. I know it kind of scares you, but it's the way it has to be, at least until things cool down a little."

Isha bit her lip. "You... won't leave, right?"

Zak patted her shoulder. "I won't let you out of my sight. I promise."

He went back to the pile of clothes, fishing through them, then pulled out a wad of cash and the hand gun. "You take these. Just in case. The weapon kicks, so hold it with both hands if you ever have to use it."

Isha eyed the gun warily. It had taken two lives in just one day, and undoubtedly many more she would never know about. "Why...?"

"Like I said, they know I'm here now. Can't be too careful."

----------  
Isha stepped out of the alleyway, gun strapped to her thin waist. Her long-nailed fingers twitched nervously, fingering the jacket he had given her, and her oddly-colored eyes bounced back and forth from person to person, wondering who would be the enemy...

_She needed something..._

She couldn't remember. Something... something important.

Where was Zak? Immediately she felt a gentle pressure on her shoulder as he let her know he was still there and, heartened, continued down the street. People glanced at her, staring at her unusual appearance, and she ducked her head, staring at the ground as she walked.

Where were they going? Every so often Zak would tug her in a certain direction and obediently she followed the tug, turning down side street after side street.

_I need it._

Need _what?_

He was probably looking for a place to stay. Her head throbbed; she could imagine what the bruise looked like.

_Give it to me! GIVE IT TO ME!_

She had to stop. Stepping down an alleyway, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.

_I know you're alive, my pet... where are you...?_

----------  
Oil slick.

He felt it. The oil slick on the edge of his mind. The growing fire inside the frail girl whom he was invisibly guiding.

She was going to snap again. He didn't know when or where, but she would sooner or later. Would he be able to save her again?

Oil slick.

There it was again. Isha had stopped to take a breath.

"You okay, Isha?" he whispered.

She breathed in again, then gave a small nod.

Oil slick. Closer. Stronger.

He was coming. The demon that had created the monster inside the girl was coming.

Zak tugged on her shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here."

----------  
_He's coming._

How could he possibly know where she was? It had only been a day!

_No, no please, don't let him take me..._

_I can sense you, my pet..._

Zak tugged her shoulder.

"Zak," she gasped, "Zak... please, don't let him take me..."

He tugged her shoulder again. "Let's get out of here."

"He'll find me—"

_I need it!_

_Yes, you want it don't you?_

She cast her mind around as began to run through the streets, Zak right behind her. Maybe... maybe they could find a ship! Maybe a small ship, one they could escape on... her nails cut into her palm as she ran, drawing even more blood.

"Zak, maybe we can find a ship..." she knew she was grasping at straws, but what else could she do? "find a ship and... escape, somewhere, anywhere—"

_Come, my little pet... you still want it. I can feel it in your mind... your need is growing stronger. Ah, I shall make you beg for it..._

"No!"

"Okay, Isha, we'll get off this damn rock and go somewhere else." Zak glided silently beside her. He could feel her panic.

He could feel _him_.

Isha's "master" was close enough that Zak could begin to pick out his thoughts. They were cold, sadistic, and above all _inhuman_.

That bastard was taunting Isha. He was taunting her with the strange drug that she needed so desperately.

"Isha," he breathed, "don't listen to him. He can't control you."

"No," she sobbed as she ran, "you don't understand! He'll..."

"I know what he'll do to you, Isha. I know what he's done." His invisible hand held hers. "I won't let it happen again. I promise."

The spaceport wasn't too far from here. Just a little longer. They'd make it! They had to make it!

_I know you're out there,_ Zak mentally hissed, _and if you lay one hand on the kid, I'll fuckin' kill you._

They were going to make it... Just a little farther...

----------  
Isha ran blindly. She didn't know where she was going, but she followed Zak's cues, clutching his hand tightly. Her other hand gripped the gun hidden under the oversized coat.

"Almost there," he breathed.

_You won't make it._ His voice was calm. _You won't get anywhere. Isha, my little pet... how much fun we'll have. Don't you remember? The times we've had... you won't make it. Just give up now._

_His claws tore open her back as he rode her hard..._

_And I know you want it._

No, no...

_I have it... it's right here in my hand. I could give it to you right now._

Isha ran impossibly faster, squeezing Zak's hand so hard she was sure there was no more circulation in it.

"Don't listen to him. We're almost there. See that tower? That's a control tower; it's attached to the Spaceport where all the ships are. Just a few more minutes; we're right there."

_I have it right here... I could make you kill your friend, Isha. You know what happens when you overdose._

No! No!

_Don't you remember? You stabbed her thirty-seven times, I remember counting..._

They entered the Spaceport.

Zak scooped Isha up and vaulted clean over the fence. They were in. Now all they had to do was sneak aboard one of the ships and they'd be free.

"Almost there, Isha." He set her down. "Now all we have to do is—"

He was close enough that he could see them. Zak felt an uncontrollable chill run down his spine. He was there—nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Zak felt the demon's mind close in on his. He saw Isha's terrible memories rise up within his own, alongside those that he could not recognize, but he knew who they belonged to.

"Zak...?"

_He was standing in a cold, brightly lit room. He had a gun in his hand. Someone was strapped to a chair in front of him._

_"Zachary, please, I still love you! Don't do this! Don't listen to them! I'm your mother! Please tell me you still love me!"_

_A man pulled a gun to his head. "Don't watch, baby..."_

_He pinned her down, ignoring the screams. She belonged to him. She was his little plaything…_

He felt sick.

_He enjoyed feeling her struggle beneath him. She flailed pathetically, trying and failing to resist him..._

_"The army? What the hell can the army offer you?"_

_His son just shook his head. "You don't get it, do you, Pops?"_

_He was walking across the street, eyes locked on the hawk-faced man with the pathetic wisp of a girl..._

_She needed it. Needed it or she'd go crazy..._

_He pulled out the gun. "Sorry, Dick, I didn't want to do this..."_

"Zak, what's wrong with you?!"

The cloaking field flickered off. He threw off the helmet and puked, heaving over and over again until there was nothing left. Visions swam in front of his eyes that weren't his...

"I'm not sure, kid..." His face was white and dripping sweat.

_Memories are such precious things, aren't they?_

"Get out of my head," Zak rasped. "Get out of my fucking head!"

"Zak!"

She shook him. "Zak! Zak, come on, let's get out of here, he's coming..."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm all right, kid."

_No! No! Get away from me, get off of me, don't TOUCH ME GET AWAY GET AWAY GET AWAY—he laughed softly, stroking her back, feeling her shudder—she watched as the monster dropped something into her daddy's drink—_

She dragged him to his feet, pulling him along. "Please, we have to get out of here..."

Zak wiped his mouth and slipped his mask back on. A moment later he had vanished. "Right beside you, kid."

_I have it right here, my little pet._

No more no more no more...

_It's in my hand. I can feel your need. If you stop now I promise I'll give you as much as you want._

Isha hesitated. It was so tempting, she wanted it... needed it...

_Yes... you want it._

She needed it... _Please..._

_You want it?_

_Yes! Yes!_ Isha pulled away, turning and scanning the area. _Please Master give it to me, please, I'll do anything..._

_I knew you would._

----------  
Isha began to walk away, as if in a trance.

"Kid!" He reached out to grab her, to stop her—

—And was thrown back by a blow that came out of nowhere.

Zak skidded backwards, nearly losing his balance. What the hell?! His eyes focused on a faint shimmer, just a little bit to Isha's left. Could he be?

How could it be anything else.

_I see you, you bastard,_ he thought. He felt his instincts taking over. He reached for his rifle.

_She belongs to me._ The shimmer materialized. In its place stood a towering, muscled creature. From its oddly-shaped hands grew long, black claws. Its face was featureless except for two eyes that glowed like cold fire. _You can do nothing to change that, as you can do nothing to change your own nature._ Its mouthless face grinned cruelly as its arms slithered around the girl's frail body.

Zak couldn't move. His gun carried only explosive rounds. He might hit Isha...

_Just one little favor,_ it hissed to the girl, _and I'll give you what you want._

Isha's whole body shook. "Just give it to me, Master, please..."

_Kill him, Isha. Kill the boy._

Isha turned to stare at Zak, her eyes wide and pleading.

_You do want it, don't you?_

"Yes... yes..."

_Kill him._

"Zak," she whispered, then lunged.

Zak tapped his belt, flickering out of existence once again. As long as he stayed hidden, then maybe...

He leapt to the side as Isha threw herself at him, then realized his mistake.

The ground was covered with sand.

_Shit._

She hit him, clawing and biting and slashing at him. _Want it... need it... _

She was flailing blindly, scratching and clawing and biting and kicking at his half-visible form.

She couldn't see him, but she knew where he was.

_Yes_, the demon breathed, egging her on, _kill him._

Zak dodged, ducked, sidestepped, and parried all he could. She wouldn't stop, just kept on fighting and slashing until her madness was satisfied.

She came at him again. Zak braced himself, then ducked to one side, grabbing her by the arms and sending her sailing over his head.

"Isha, please," he said through ragged breaths. "Don't... don't make me kill you!"

The demon laughed, it telepathic taunt sending a sickening coldness though Zak's veins. _Do you really think I would allow that?_

Of course it wouldn't. If Zak gained too much of an upper hand, the creature would undoubtedly step in and finish him off. He'd lose. He'd lose and die and she'd go back to that hell that was waiting for her.

Zak couldn't let that happen.

Isha was back on her feet, preparing to charge again...

And then he felt it.

It was massive, an incalculable power growing and approaching at unbelievable speed. It, no, _they_, had come. 

They had come to end the world.

The demon stood motionless, its fiery eyes gazing unblinkingly at the sky. It was afraid—afraid for its life.

_Isha,_ it commanded as it turned. _Come._

"You said—"

_Come,_ it hissed, panic seeping through its thoughts. _Now._

Isha turned to follow, her desire for the drug making her forget the atrocities her master would commit if she returned. Zak gripped her shoulders firmly. No way would he let her go back!

Isha whimpered as the demon melted into shadow, vanishing from sight.

"Hold on, kid. Hold on."

She tried to break free, tugging herself away from his arms. Zak responded with a reluctant blow to her temple, and her body went limp.

Zak held her tightly, then turned toward the port. Ships were launching left and right, the whine of the engines blocking out the panicked cries of the crowds swarming around the ramps.

"THIS IS A CLASS FIVE EVACUATION," blared the loudspeakers above the ungodly roar. "ALL SHIPS DEPART IMMEDATELY UPON REACHING FULL CAPACITY."

It was unbelievable. Mar Sara was under attack.

Zak tore through the crowds, weaving left and right until the boarding hatch of the nearest ship was in sight.

He was through! They'd made it! They were safe!

He strapped himself in next to the unconscious Isha. "We're getting out of here, kid! We're gonna make it!"

There was a man next to him, to his left. He raised a scruffy eyebrow. "What the hell kind of a getup is _that?_"

Zak faced him, grinning broadly from behind his mask. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"THIS IS A CLASS FIVE EVACUATION. ALL SHIPS DEPART IMMEDIATELY UPON REACHING FULL CAPACITY."

"Ladies and gentlemen," called another voice over the speakers, "Transport _Big Red_ is cleared for takeoff! Strap yerselves in an' enjoy thuh ride! And please, all o' ya'll remain seated until we come to ah complete stop."

The engines roared, and the metal hull rattled uncontrollably. Zak's stomach lurched as the ship zoomed up, up, up...

The back of his neck prickled as a psychic buzz filled his head. They were right outside, right outside and waiting. Zak leaned forward, his hair floating airily in the rapidly weakening gravity.

Through the port hole he caught a glimpse of glistening golden spacecraft, their design alien and beautiful.

"Oh my God," whispered the man on his left.

Beams of electric blue light shot from the largest ships, punching through the atmosphere, tearing it apart, creating deep, glowing scars on the surface below.

"Oh my God," the man breathed again. "This... no..."

"It's real," Zak said in quiet awe. "Fire from heaven."

----------  
_No, no, no, the drug, I want it need it please give it to me they're coming they're coming they're going to end the world everyone's gonna die they're dying—_

"—gonna make it!"

_Make it where? Oh nonono they're dying—Master—the drug, please..._

She awoke to a pale light floating above her... a lamp? Her head hurt. Horribly, it hurt. Nausea permeated her thoughts whenever she moved, so she squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to.

"Kid?"

_Leave me alone..._

"I know you're awake, Isha."

_Go away._

"No such luck. We're free, Isha, that bastard's gone. We got out in time."

_Where are we?_

"Antiga Prime. As soon as I can get a ride we're outta here, too. Right now we're in a hotel. Still gotta be careful, though; if people know where we are they still might try and get us, even with all the shit that's going on."

_I feel sick..._

"I know. I'm sorry, but I had to knock you out again. You have a concussion."

_I need it._

"No. You don't."

_Yes I do I need it..._ Isha started to sit up—but couldn't. Bewildered, she forced an eye open to stare down at herself.

"Zak," she croaked, "why am I tied down?"

"Oh, what, these?" Zak tugged on the straps. "Well, kid, considering you were willing to _kill_ me, I kind of had to take a few precautions. As soon as we're sure you're head's back on straight, you can get up and walk around, 'kay?" He placed a cold pack on her head. "For now, you take it easy."

_But... I need it..._

Zak sighed and shook his head. He got up and went into the other room, but was back before she panicked that she would be left alone. He held a soaking cloth to her lips; she hesitated before sucking the water out. "Hungry, kid? I got you something..."

_No.  
_  
"You need some meat on your bones. You're just skin."

_Not hungry.  
_  
"Listen to me, kid. You _need to eat._"

_Go away.  
_  
"Not until you eat."

She told him to go do something physically impossible.

Zak rolled his eyes at the comment. "Jeez kid, I really don't know what to do with you. And will you _stop_ with the drug thing?!"

_But I—  
_  
"The only reason you think you need it is because you were told you need it. What you really need..." He began to unwrap a protein bar. "...is this."

_Not hungry.  
_  
"Don't give me shit, kid. Eat." He broke off a small piece and stuck it in her mouth.

Isha made a gagging sound in protest.

"Spit that out and I'll kill you."

Immediately Isha swallowed. She had seen enough of what he could do to take him seriously.

Zak grinned and fed her another piece. "Comfortable?"

_Jerk,_ she grumbled.

"That's not very nice."

What? Isha's eyes widened as everything clicked into place. _You're a telepath!_

"Took you a while to figure that out, didn't it?" Zak couldn't help smirking.

Isha's eyes widened further, her thoughts turning over and over in her head. _I should have known as soon as I—_

"Hey, don't sweat it, kid. There's a lot of stuff you still don't know about me, and personally I'd like to keep it that way. Here." He popped another piece of the protein bar into her mouth, waited for her to chew, then placed the wet cloth over her mouth again.

"You've been out for quite some time, kid. I swear, you're the only person I know who can sleep through re-entry."

_I didn't sleep though it; you knocked me out._

"Yeah, whatever. Want me to tell you what you've missed?"

She gave a slight nod.

"Okay. I know it's a lot to swallow, but Mar Sara is gone. Some people may have waited to tell you, but I think it best that you understand the situation. Furthermore, we are now under the care of a terrorist organization. I made a few deals, found out some information, and they've agreed to help us out if I lend my own... talents... to them for a while. Quid pro quo, you know?"

He paused thoughtfully, then gave a short, sarcastic laugh.

"Then again, I didn't have much choice. They didn't want a trained assassin running loose, and my other option was a bullet to the head." He paused again, looking over at Isha. She lay in stunned silence.

"Isha, I'll try to protect you as much as I can, but a lot has changed over the past few days."

He sighed, was silent for a while, then spoke again. His words were slow and deliberate.

"We're at war, Isha. Against both the Confederacy and an enemy we can never hope to understand."

He turned to face her, his eyes cold and hard.

"The aliens that took down Mar Sara aren't the only ones we have to worry about."

Call it the concussion, but Isha didn't freak.

Well, much.

_There are MORE aliens?!  
_  
"Yes."

_Great. Just FUCKING GREAT WE HAVE PLANET MURDERERS AND WE HAVE MORE ALIENS THAT COULD BE WORSE—  
_  
"Isha, calm—"

_I am NOT GOING TO CALM DOWN! MY MASTER'S OUT THERE AND oh god I need my drug HE CAN STILL GET ME AND I need it I need it I'm burning up—  
_  
"Kid! Calm down already! Do you want me to knock you out again?!"

She fell immediately silent, squeezing her eyes shut. _I hurt..._

"I know, kid. Just relax for a while."

_What... what will happen to me now? What will happen if—I don't know how to do anything; what if they decide to kill me because I can't do anything?  
_  
"Isha..."

_I don't want to die..._

"You won't."

Isha raised her head, wincing at the throbbing pain. "What?"

"You won't die. That was the deal."

"Zak, what are you—"

"Look, Isha, I made a deal with them, okay?" Zak gritted his teeth, sighed, and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. How do you explain to someone that you practically sold your soul for them? "I... I took an oath, kid. They made me swear to do what they told me, and in turn they promised not to harm you."

Isha's eyes watered over. "Zak," she whispered.

"I'm not gonna let you die, kid." Zak gently touched her cheek. "You remember that, okay?"

_Oh Zak...  
_  
Isha squeezed her eyes shut. He really did care for her. _Thank you, thank you so much, oh god I wish I could do something to help you..._

"It's okay, kid."

_No, it's not..._ She closed her eyes; nausea threatened to overwhelm her. Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. _Zak..._

She was so tired...

"Rest, kid." His voice came from a long way away. "Just rest for now."

_...love you Zak..._ Isha closed her eyes, exhausted.

Zak blinked. Well, that was a surprise...

Isha was sound asleep. Had he really been reading her right? Had she really thought...

Someone knocked on the door. "Oy, Ghostie! The Lieutenant wants ta chit-chat witcha!"

Zak rose slowly. Great. Her again. He'd had the misfortune of speaking to the Lieutenant once before, right when they arrived, and he'd disliked her from the start. She wasn't a bad person, really...

...But she was a telepath. A former Ghost.

Whenever he was near her, she immediately got inside his head, sifting through his thoughts and memories, leaving traces of her own in her wake.

"Coming," Zak grunted, then trudged to the door. A lanky, fuzzy-haired young man was waiting for him.

"Okay, Ghostie, chu ain't gonna pull any shit, right?"

Zak refused to look the boy in the eye. "Yeah, whatever, let's just get this over with."

He was led down the hallway to a room near the end. Inside was a table, chair, light, computer screen...

And the Lieutenant. She was a wide-mouthed woman with red hair and flashing green eyes. She stood in the far corner, hands folded across her chest.

"Mengsk has a job for you," she said flatly, her mind once again searching through his.

"Lovely. Details?"

"Drop the sarcasm. Just be at Aldrich's Point in exactly eight hours."

"Where the hell is Aldrich's Point?"

The Lieutenant rolled her eyes. "You're a psych, read my mind!"

Zak obeyed. "Oh. Can I go now?"

"Yeah, get out of here," she said.

As he turned to leave, he caught a quick flash of the woman's thoughts. _Only one dumb enough to escape... Only one crazy enough to pull it off..._

Zak glanced over his shoulder. "_You_ escaped."

She shook her head. "Nope. I was rescued."

Zak felt the woman's memories resurfacing again, shook himself, and walked out.

----------  
When Isha woke (again), she was unstrapped from the table. Zak was nowhere to be found, so she sat up, wincing as she did so—the pounding had gone down, but not entirely dissipated.

But what hadn't dissipated—what had grown—was her hunger.

She hopped off the bed and limped around, rubbing her aching skull. What a nightmare the past few days had been...

"Zak?" She entered the small kitchen-area to see some leftover food on the counter. Beside it was a note—

_Don't freak, okay? I don't know when I'll be back, but I will be back. Remember to not eat too fast. Zak.  
_  
Hesitantly she sat down, and ate. When she was done, she hobbled around the room, examining everything. What did that do? How about that? She missed Zak... and she hoped he was okay.  
----------

Zak slumped against a large, whitish boulder, exhausted. "You could have warned me about the turrets."

"Quiet, soldier!" an unfamiliar voice barked in his helmet. "You've done what you came for, and in doing so saved the lives of many of our men. Be thankful."

"Thankful?! Try getting shot at, and see how thankful you are!"

"Don't sass me, boy! This is a military operation, not some damn kindergarten field trip!"

"I kind of noticed that when they started shooting at me."

The voice on the other end of the commlink growled. "Urgh, just get your ass back to the base. Why the hell Mengsk likes you is beyond me."

"Yeah, I'm going." Zak stood up, dusted himself off, then started the hike home, activating his cloaker as he went.

In the past ten hours, he'd come out here, taken down a small Confederate outpost, killed about a dozen people, and been shot at more than he would have ever liked to have been. He could have done it quietly, but no, the damn sensors on the anti-aircraft turrets had picked him up... He gripped his arm where a bullet had clipped him.

It was going to be a long hike home.

----------  
"Zak, you're hurt!"

She bounded over as soon as he trudged in, hugging him tightly. "They said you were coming, so I drew a bath for you—" She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bathroom, where the steaming water had already filled the tub. "And I got some food too, you want some? It's nice and hot..."

"Thanks... kid. You wanna wash me, too?" he asked jokingly.

She flinched and looked down. "Master made me wash him all the time, so... yeah, I guess, if you want..."

Zak's tired expression changed to one of shocked surprise. "Okay, too much information! I'm kidding, kid! You don't need to work your ass off for me, all right?" He shook his head, smiling to himself. The kid actually cared about him.

"Now if you don't mind..." He gently shooed her out of the small bathroom. "I think I'm gonna take advantage of that bath. You'll be okay on the other side of the door, right?"

"I... uh... I guess..." She fidgeted a little, her eyes on the floor.

"I won't be in long. You can go ahead and eat more of that food if you want, just save a bit for me." He closed the door, then turned to the mirror.

Could use a shave later, he thought to himself, then began to routinely remove his gear. The gash on his arm was deeper than he thought, and a slight infection had begun to rear its ugly head. Ah, shit.

Slipping into the bathtub was a strange sensation for him; he couldn't remember ever having a warm bath. It was sweet relief for his aching muscles. He picked up the bar of soap...

_"Master made me wash him all the time..."  
_  
Zak cringed, the soap sliding over his wound, causing it to sting like hell. He swore, then set about washing it, muttering curses as the burning continued.

It was silent behind the door. "Hey, Isha," he called, "you all right out there?"

Isha wasn't.

She knew her Master would find her. When he did...

He made her kill her principal.

He beat her as a source of amusement.

He raped her as a source of pleasure.

He got her addicted to that poison, for an experiment she wasn't even aware what was about.

And he had made her wash him.

Isha...  
_  
"M-Master?"_

Come here, my little pet.  
_  
She obeyed, crawling over to the stone hole in the ground, crouching on the rim as the steam billowed up around her. "Y...Yes Master?"_

He beckoned, smiling as she desperately tried to think of a way to get out of the situation. Your Master is very tired, Isha... tired and aching.__

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

Come in the water...  
_  
She knew what to do, and she didn't want to do it. She slid into the pool, picking up the soapweed that was waiting at the edge. Her Master liked it hot—very hot. Too hot for her; in a matter of seconds her body was red and aching._

Slowly Isha lathered a rough cloth, and began working it in small circles over his chest. He relaxed, putting his head back against the rock as she scrubbed at him, following the routine she had set a while ago. Chest, arms, neck, hands, then underwater to do his abdomen, legs—

Don't, Master, don't notice...

You missed a spot.  
_  
"Master..."_

He grabbed her hands and placed them there, grinning as she tried to twist away. Wash me.__

"Master... Master, please..."

Wash me!  
_  
She washed him. He groaned softly, leaning back again._

As soon as she finished she leapt for the edge, not wanting him to keep her there, don't, don't do it—

He did. He grabbed her from behind and—

With a small cry Isha leapt to her feet and bolted into the bedroom, diving into the bed and pulling the covers up over her head. She wasn't hungry any more.

Zak could feel Isha's growing fear, his stomach turning as her memories resurfaced.

He heard her cry out.

"Kid!" He vaulted out of the bathtub, lost his grip on the slick floor, fell, hit his head on the sink, shouted a powerful curse at the top of his lungs, pulled himself up, grabbed the doorknob, and...

...Remembered he was naked. He forced his pants up over his legs. _You dumb shit._

He opened the door slowly. "Isha…?"

He spotted an Isha-sized lump beneath the covers of the bed. "Hey, kid," he said softly as he sat down next to her. He gathered the lump up in his arms and hugged it tightly, the top of Isha's head poking through.

"Don't be scared anymore, okay?"

The rest of Isha's head emerged from the cocoon of sheets. She pressed her face into his still wet shoulder.

Zak felt a warm, protective emotion grow from within him. It grew and expanded into a deep rage, directed at the monster that had tortured her so terribly.

He hoped her master would return. When he did, he would kill him.

He would fucking _KILL_ him!

----------

"I'm very proud of you."

Arcturus Mengsk stood staring out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. He was a tall, square-shouldered man, his black hair and beard peppered with gray. Zak leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room, arms folded.

"You, in less than a week, have demonstrated remarkable loyalty, stamina, and courage." He turned, his face both calm and severe, his voice smooth and powerful. It was hard not to fall under his spell.

Then again, being a psychic had its bonuses. Zak could see beyond his benevolent guise. He knew what the man was capable of. One didn't become the most hated man in the Koprulu Sector by being a nice guy.

"Forgive me, sir, but I doubt you came here just to praise me."

Mengsk chuckled. "I guess Kerrigan was right about you. Very well." His face darkened. "It's about the girl."

"We had a deal. She stays out of this." Zak's fists clenched.

"Now, now, Zak, do calm down. All I want is for you to let us ask a few questions..."

"Bullshit," Zak spat. "I know how you work."

Mengsk's voice dropped its smooth coating. "You look here, boy! The data that has been collected shows that she has been in contact with the enemy! You saw what the Protoss did to Mar Sara with your own eyes! Even the tiniest detail can turn the tide! Do you understand me?!"

Zak did not respond. In the back of his mind he could feel Isha calling out to him—desperate, panicking.

He had to go to her. He had to stop her from going crazy again.

"Sorry, sir, but I've got something I've got to take care of." He sprinted out the door, ignoring Mengsk's infuriated cries.

It wasn't the best idea to leave Mengsk fuming like that, and Zak knew he'd pay for it later. But for now, he had something a bit more important on his hands.

Isha needed him.

It was getting stronger.

Isha crouched on the floor, trying and failing to suppress the growing fire and rage her need generated. _Oh god Zak please come I can't I can't hold out please come..._

_WANT it NEED it!_

_Please..._

Pain and a horrible burning sensation—Isha's back arched uncontrollably as her limbs twitched spasmodically until she fell to the floor completely, a low moan escaping her lips. Sweat dotted her brow.

"Hey, gal," said a voice very far away. "Hey, you okay?"

_DIE!_

Before she knew it she had the boy by the throat, her clawlike nails piercing his skin as she shook and shook, red clouding over her vision. _WANT IT! GIVE IT TO ME!_

"Urk—"

She felt hands on her, trying to pry her off, and she attacked them too, slashing and biting and flailing. They cried out, falling back and scattering away.

"Kid!"

In the back of her mind she knew it was Zak, and hot rage erupted again. He came LATE, it was too LATE, and he would PAY! She leapt at him, an inhuman shriek echoing the corridors.

There was a brief fighting period, and she barely heard him mutter, "All right kid, you asked for it."

Then darkness—

_Can't keep this up forever... Poor kid's probably gonna get brain damage..._

Zak carried an unconscious Isha back to the room, set her down on the bed as carefully as possible, and began to strap her up once again, then, after thinking it over, decided against it. He could tell whenever she was about to go crazy, and as long as he stayed with her, she didn't need to be tied down like some rabid animal. If he had to go somewhere, then he'd have to restrain her again, but for now...

He had to do something about those damn nails.

She'd scratched him up pretty damn good, and he'd rather not go through the ordeal again. Using a small, sharp pocketknife, he carefully cut away and filed down at her claws until they were relatively dull and normal length. He was no manicurist, but it would do.

She had bitten him, too, and his left hand was swollen and throbbing. He half-jokingly pondered pulling her teeth out...

_Nah..._

But what about Mengsk?

No way in hell would he let them interrogate her. Then again, both their asses were fried if he refused to comply with Mengsk's demands...

He'd have to do it himself, then, Zak realized. He was the only one the kid trusted, and perhaps he could sift through her memories without harming her...

He gazed at Isha's face for a long time. She looked so calm... peaceful...

Zak dragged himself into a chair, and for the first time in weeks allowed himself to truly sleep.

_"Master, I've prepared a bath for you."_

_"Don't come in, kid, the water's too hot..."_

_She was washing him, her skin becoming raw and red in the burning pool._

_"You were always so kind to me, Master. Please, let me repay you."_

_"Damn it, Isha, I'm not you master!"_

_And then she was on the floor, screaming, "Please, please, Master! Give it to me!"_

_"I can't, kid, I can't! It's killing you, kid! Listen to me!"_

_And then they were both down in blood and shadow. He'd taken her down, and she was in too much pain to struggle..._

Zak sat up with a gasp. Just a dream. Just a messed up, crazy dream.

Getting up, he began to go through his morning routine. Push-ups, stretches, over and over, just like always. It felt good to be back into the routine.

He perched back on the chair, his rifle in hand. He took out the pieces and, one by one, cleaned them. The rhythmic motion of the rag over the metal was comforting, soothing--just like old times.

_Just a dream. Just a messed up, crazy dream..._

There was something wrong with her fingers.

Opening her eyes and ignoring the throbbing ache in her temple, she examined them carefully. Something was different...

They were short. They almost looked normal.

Slowly she sat up, surprised she wasn't restrained. The straps were right there, but she wasn't tied in them...

"Zak?" she called out, a bare whisper.

"Right here, kid."

She turned her head. He was perched on the arm of the chair, cleaning his rifle, startlingly clear blue eyes watching her very carefully. She noticed with chagrin that there were several new scratches all over him...

"It's growing stronger," she whispered. And it had... before, there was a period of time where they could act to either save or restrain her, but now... that time had reduced to only a few minutes. Soon, there would be no warning at all...

"I'm sorry," she cried, eyes spilling over. "I'm sorry, I—I'm better off dead..." she bowed her head and wept.

"Where'd you get such a bullshit idea?" Zak jammed the clip back into his weapon. "You know what your problem is, kid? You're giving up." He set the gun down, then faced Isha directly, his eyes unblinkingly fix on hers.

"Trust me, if you really were better off dead, you'd be back on what's left of Mar Sara with a bullet through your brains." He tapped his forehead for emphasis. "You have to _want_ control, kid. Don't let it control you."

Control it how? There was the ultimate question. Maybe if she had something to keep her mind off of it, something she could do to _fight it off..._

_Bingo._ Fight it off. Teach her bodily control, and mental control would soon follow.

"Hey, Isha?" Zak grinned. "What do you say to sparring lessons?"

"S-Sparring lessons?" Isha squeaked.

"What, are you deaf or something?"

Isha shook her head wildly. "I don't want to know how to hurt people!"

Zak snorted, then chuckled, then outright threw his head back and laughed. The irony was unbearable. "Kid," he managed to gasp, "you already know damn well how to hurt people."

A slice of Isha's pain cut through his mind. The grin vanished.

"Sorry, kid, it's just..." He sat down next to her.

"Look. What I want to teach you isn't about beating the shit out of somebody. What you need to know is how to control your body. How to focus and analyze and _think_ when you're tense. How to get your arms and legs to do what you want them to. How to stay calm and know what to do when somebody bigger than you starts throwing punches." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Plus," he said, "you could use a little healthy exercise."

He made sense, but she didn't _want_ to...

"Do I have to?"

He looked at her sternly. She winced and stared at the floor. "Okay but... tell me what you're leading up to... and tell me _why_ you cut my nails without consent."

"The nails? Just worried you might slice open an artery or something. As for the sparring, well, picture this. If you learn how to control your body and keep your head, then you have something to counter your... _thing_. You follow?"

Isha stared at him blankly.

Zak sighed. "Okay, here's the deal. I might not always be around for you. I want you to learn how to save your own ass, okay? It really does a number on me leaving you to fend for yourself, especially when you might snap at any minute or run across the wrong person." He stood up. "I don't want you giving up. You've got strength, kid. I can teach you how to use it to your advantage. I'll give you focus and technique, and you do the rest."

He held out his hand. "I can only teach you what I know. What you get out of it is entirely up to you."

"But I liked my nails," she complained sullenly, taking his hand and letting him pull her to her feet.

He sighed and shook his head. "Don't want to hear anything about it, kid."

She grumbled a little, still mad that he had cut her nails. "Okay, fine... what first, then?"

"What am I gonna do with you?" he muttered under his breath again, a little annoyed. She ducked her head to stare at the floor.

"But before we start, kid, I wanted to ask you a few things..."

Isha looked up at him, lower lip stuck out poutingly at her dulled nails.

"Do you..." He couldn't. He didn't want to bring up those memories again, Sons of Korhal or no. "...Nevermind. We'll talk about it later. Anyway, the basics."

He spent the next hour showing Isha "the ropes." Most of the lesson consisted of Zak explaining to her slowly what he considered to be a simple matter of physics.

"Okay, throw a punch... Good, yeah, but make a tighter fist; don't want to break your fingers, do you? Aim with your top two knuckles. There you go! Let's see ten on that arm and ten from the other."

"All right, I'm gonna punch nice and slow. All you have to do is block it... Okay, Isha, keep relaxed until the point of impact. Don't tighten your muscles until—there! Right there! Good! Now add a little rotation to it. See, if you increase the contact area, then you don't get such a heavy hit in such a small space. Redirect it, kid, don't let it sit there. Again. Good. Again. Too early; it wasn't a threat yet. Again—ah, jeez, kid, it's a block! Don't hit me with it! And again..."

"Okay, kid, that's good for now." Zak sat down at the foot of the bed. "You did really well, Isha. I'm proud of you."

Isha beamed at him, and crawled onto the bed, snuggling up against him. It had been fun, really, but hard; who would have known that such a killer was so patient in teaching? She leaned her head down on his arm contentedly, despite her throbbing head and various bruises. _Love you, Zak._

"Zak? What was it you wanted to ask me?"

Zak felt himself involuntarily tense. It was true. And now, as soon as she was happy and close to him and free from the hell that had imprisoned her for so long...

She had gone and asked him to invite it back in. Zak ran his fingers through her hair. He couldn't lie. He knew he never could lie to her.

"Isha... I didn't want to have to do this, but... but they'll force it out of you if I don't..."

Her thoughts were so pure... so simple, so free. How could he shatter it? How could he?!

He took a deep breath, embracing the last wisp of calm before the storm.

"The... that thing... it wasn't human, Isha. It was one of them. One of the... the things that took down the Sara planets." He held her tightly, afraid to let go, afraid that he might lose her.

"Tell me its strengths. Weaknesses. Technology. Tell me what we're fighting. Please."


	2. Chapter 2

Isha's face twisted in pain, and she pulled away from him. "Oh—"

_No Master please..._

"I—Z-Zak—"

_Do you need to be punished, my pet?_

Isha shook her head, pushing at him as he held her. "No, no I can't, oh Zak don't ask me—"

He clutched her tightly. "Isha, if you don't—"

"No!" She was sobbing, tearing herself away from him, all her contentment, love, and trust gone. "No, no, no—"

_You want it, my little pet. My toy. Don't deny it..._

She staggered back, tears running down her face. "You—you—oh Zak!"

How could he? How could he, after she had trusted him so much? She never wanted to think of _him_ again. Never. None of them, none of their kind, not of anything that had to do with them--

He was rising, coming for her, arms held out to her. "Isha, Isha please..."

She wanted to go to him; he looked so hurt and he was holding out his arms for her, but she turned and bolted for the bathroom—the closest room—and slammed the door, locking it behind her.

_You belong to me... don't think of anything other than that. You are nothing. You are worth nothing._

_"Master...no..."_

"No"? Do you need to be punished, my pet?

_"No!"_

I think you do.

_"No! No, Master please n—"_

"Damn it!" Zak whirled around, knocking over and throwing everything he could get his hands on. He _knew_ she couldn't handle it, he _knew_ how much pain the memories caused her...

And he'd done it all the same. He'd gone and dragged her back into the hell she had finally escaped. And for what? Had it really saved her the pain? Was he really helping her?

_Of course you can't help her,_ he thought bitterly, _you can't help anyone. You don't save people. You kill them. It's all you're good for._ He kicked a pillow across the room, disappointed that it didn't break anything.

Ghosts didn't save people. They killed them. Why did he try to run away from it? Why had he tried to deny his purpose, his _destiny…_

He'd saved her life, hadn't he? He'd patched her up back on Mar Sara, and kept her from destroying herself when she went crazy. He'd saved her life more than once, right?

But he'd killed Dick Rese to do it. He'd killed the psych they'd sent after him. He'd sworn allegiance to a man whom just months before he would have killed without hesitation...

It was only a matter of time, then. He'd kill Isha, too, whether he wanted to or not. And if he didn't, she'd die anyway. Everybody would die eventually. Why bother?

_Because she matters._

Zak blinked, surprised at his own thoughts. _She means something. She cares about me, and she..._

She made him _feel._ Before her, had he ever felt his _own_ emotions? He hadn't even _had_ emotions.

And now, when she'd been so close...

Zak's fists clenched. He had shoved her away. The only ting that really mattered might be out of reach for good.

Wading through the wreckage around him, he made his way to the bathroom door. He could feel her in there.

Fear. Betrayal. She hurt.

"Kid," he said softly, knocking on the door. "If I... if I said I was sorry, would you come out?"

No response. The same chain of wounded betrayal flowed from her thoughts.

"Isha... I know what I said made you hurt like hell. I can't bear to see you hurt, kid."

Isha closed her eyes, trying to block out the sound of his voice. She didn't want to hear him right now, didn't want to hear the pain in his voice and his pleading with her. How could he? How could he?

How could _she?_

He didn't want to hurt her, she knew that; he _loved_ her, didn't he? She loved _him,_ after all... she had never felt so safe as when she had been curled up against him, his arms around her. Safe and loved. Love had been so absent in her life, the end of _her_ age of innocence had been four years old, when she witnessed the most violent act of murder, and then dove into hell when she committed that act herself, eleven years later...

So how could she run from him?

_Because he betrayed me._

How is that betrayal? He had done nothing to harm her; at least he had tried not to... hadn't he said that the others that they—well, he—was working for would have forced it out of her anyway? And they would have _meant_ to hurt her.

So he had been trying to save her from that pain. In his own way, he was trying to help her.

_"You know what your problem is, kid? You're giving up."_

She had been. She was, once again, running away, keeping away the man that had helped her and _was_ helping her. Was _trying_ to help her, anyway. She couldn't run away any more. The only reason why she had escaped her Master's clutches to begin with was by finally snapping, attacking him viciously and making him beat her and dump her on that planet...

Fighting was the only way to get things done. She should have learned that by now.

Isha slowly unfolded her legs from the crouched position in the empty bathtub, standing up. She would help him, she would tell him what she knew...

There was a muffled voice on the other side of the door. "What up, Ghostie? 'Ey, the Lieutenant wants to talk witcha again, right?"

"Get the fuck away."

"'Ey 'ey that ain't nice! C'mon Ghostie, let's go!"

"Let me—let me just—Isha, please come out... I'm sorry..."

"What, havin' a spat witcha lover? You kin sort it out later, kay? C'mon, the Lieutenant's waitin'!"

"She's _not_—dammit. Isha, I... I'll be right back, okay? Don't... don't go anywhere, I'll be right back..."

There was the sound of footsteps, and then a door slamming. Isha slowly opened the bathroom door, looked around in awe at the mess, and picked her way into the kitchen, cursing herself in both Terran and Protoss the way she had learned from her Master. What an idiot she was, what a moron—

A knock on the door. Isha ignored it. If it was anyone important—Zak, basically—they would just come in.

A few seconds later she was looking down the deadly end of a gun. "Miss Isha, come with me, please. Mengsk wants to talk to you."

Zak followed the fuzzy-haired boy down the winding hallways, burning imaginary holes in the back of his head with his eyes. Jerk had a habit of showing up right when he'd be most obnoxious...

"C'mon, Ghostie, shake da lead out, eh? Whatchur problem, anyway?"

Zak's face and voice were perfectly flat. "You."

"Oy, dat ain't nice. I'm yer boss, eh? Chu gotta respect me." The boy shook a finger scoldingly.

"You wish. How old are you? Fifteen?"

The boy straightened himself with a huff. "Fer yer infermashin, I'm—"

Zak rolled his eyes. "Ninteen, yeah, whatever."

"And a _half!_ Wait... how'd chu know dat?"

"How do you _think?_"

The boy paused thoughtfully, putting a hand on his chin. "...Oh. Teep. Yeah, I knew dat."

Zak shook his head. What an idiot. He honestly had no place in a rebel base camp.

Then again, his older brother had been on Korhal when...

Zak rubbed his temples. _Shut it out... Just shut it out..._

"Jeez, Ghostie, chu fallin' asleep or what?"

"Damn it, I'm coming!" He reluctantly followed, wondering how much longer he'd have to put up with this shithead, wondering what the hell the Lieutenant wanted with him, anyway, wondering how he'd straighten things out before Mengsk had his head on a platter...

Wondering if Isha would be okay without him...

Isha could feel the gun right behind her as she walked, shaking uncontrollably. Every time she paused he nudged her, ever so slightly, in the back, and she'd quickly increase her steps to appease him.

"A-Are you a Ghost?" she found herself squeaking.

His voice was flat. "Yes."

She cringed and kept walking. How come all the Ghosts she'd met were so horrible and Zak wasn't?

They went through a set of doors and Isha hesitated again, amazed. From drab hallway to luscious waiting room, the sight took her breath away.

"Sit."

She sat immediately, curling up as far away from the gun as she could with the arm of the chair in her way. What was this about, anyway? Why did this "Mengsk" person want to talk to her? Was it about her going crazy in the hallway? That must be it...

"Miss Isha!" boomed a voice, and very suddenly there was a man standing in the doorway, beaming at her. He was a very _large_ man, full of muscle and with a prominent chin and beard. Isha leaped about a foot in the air, eyes wide and panicked.

"No, no, my dear," Mengsk said, still beaming. "There is no need to be afraid—Joseph! Put that gun away, can't you see you're frightening the poor girl?"

Immediately the gun disappeared into its hidden holster. The Ghost saluted and stood at attention.

"Come in, come in," Mengsk boomed, gesturing with a flourish into his office, and with a single terrified glance at the Ghost she scurried in past him.

"Have a seat," he invited, and Isha sat on the plushy chair while he reclined in an even plushier one on the other side of the desk. "Now, Miss Isha...?"

She hesitated. "Just... Just Isha." Truth be told, she had forgotten her last name just as she had forgotten how many years had gone by.

"Very well then Miss Isha, I just wanted to ask you a few questions, and then you're free to go. I'm terribly sorry about the way he treated you; it won't happen again. You know those Ghosts..." he leaned forward and added confidentially, "...always paranoid."

Isha thought of Zak and nodded slightly in agreement. Mengsk beamed once more and leaned back, folding his hands and steepling his fingers, gazing over the top of them to her.

"Is... Is this about the hallway incident?" Isha finally found her voice. "If it is, I'm sorry, I... I... it won't..." she stopped. She couldn't guarantee it wouldn't happen again. "Is the boy... is he all right?"

But Mengsk was waving her comment away. "No, no, he's fine. Just some nasty bruises and scratches, and a bit of a fright. You frightened everybody, you know."

"I know," Isha whispered, curling in herself. Where was Zak, where was he, please let him come... there was something not right about this, the way Mengsk was now leaning over the desk, almost eagerly...

"Now, Zak did say something about a drug, is that right?"

What—? Why did—Zak _told_ them? Isha felt a fresh round of bitter betrayal run through her. She nodded, the movement almost unnoticeable.

"What else did this thing do to you? Did it ever... talk to you?"

_The scums of the Conclave, they do not deserve to live, may they all rot in whatever hell they believe in..._

"Yes," she whimpered. "All the... the time."

"What did he say?"

Do you like it, my pet? I made it just for you... if you're a bad little toy I'll strap you in here, and you can pleasure me the way I saw some Terrans do it on that wretched world I found you…  
_  
"Please Master... don't put me in that..."_

Only if you're a bad pet. Would you like to know how it works?  
_  
"No..."_

These shards produce small quite tangible psychic ropes, normal in all the way of normal ropes except they burn, and the shards themselves cut into your flesh, all the while increasing your senses tenfold... would you like to try it?  
_  
"No... no, Master, I wouldn't..."_

Let me show you. Only if you experience it will you truly appreciate it... the sensation, I am told, is quite painful.  
_  
"Master please I won't be b—no! NO! Let me go! I won't be bad, I promise! NO—!"_

_"What did he say?"_

"NOTHING! Everything! He told me everything!"

"Tell me, if you please."

"If you want me to tell you about their weaknesses and their secrets, I DON'T KNOW! Nothing would help you! I never—never left that place he kept me in except for twice..." she shuddered, remembering those times.

"Very well... we'll leave that at that for now. Were there any other Protoss there?"

"Two," she whispered. "There were two, they called him 'My Lord'..."

"What were they doing when you saw them?"

Her voice was tortured. "Raping me."

"Good. You're here. Suit up."

"Huh?"

The Lieutenant shouldered her canister rifle. "We've got reconnaissance work to do. It'll take less time if both of us go... Something bothering you?"

Zak turned away, keeping his eyes averted from hers. "Stay outta my head. None of your business."

She nodded. Zak could feel her understanding. "Okay. Just get your gear and be outside ASAP."

"You've got it, Lieutenant," Zak said with an overly-dramatic salute.

She rolled her eyes. _Smart ass._

_Bitch._

_Heard that._

_I know._ Zak stepped out of the room, satisfied with his small victory. Sometimes it was fun being a teep.

Walking back to his room, he noticed something awry. He quickened his pace, and the feeling grew worse. He broke into a run.

"Isha!" he shouted, throwing open the door hard enough that it banged against the wall. "Kid, where are you?!"

She was gone.

Zak felt his muscles tense up. He knew who was responsible. "Mengsk," he hissed through gritted teeth.

He scooped up his helmet, then flipped a switch.

"Lieutenant, you there?"

_"What now?"_ her voice buzzed through the commlink.

"Can you give me a few minutes? I got a problem I've gotta take care of."

_"Don't do anything stupid."_

"Yes, ma'am. Over and out." He clicked off the commlink.

It was time to go do something stupid—time to go kick Mengsk's ass.

"Let's try this again. What were they doing?"

"What's wrong with you? I told you what they were doing, they were _raping me!_"

"No, no," Mengsk waved that away, as if it didn't matter. "Yes that's awful, but did you notice anything when you left that room?"

"No! I was a bit in _pain_, and terrified of what would happen next, and then they started and—and—" She realized she was weeping and put her head in her hands. They had taken turns, then gotten impatient and held her down as they went at the same time, her Master watching and waiting...

"All right, all right," Mengsk said, and she realized he was getting impatient. "What did you notice about them?"

She couldn't think. She knew she knew more than this, it was there, but there was a man behind her with a gun and this Mengsk person was leaning across his desk, eyes narrowed, watching her, it wasn't helping her think... "They... they wore some sort of bracers and these spears of light would come out..."

Her head was pounding from her earlier encounter with madness, when Zak had hit her. She couldn't think, she couldn't think, they were practically breathing down her neck and oh god where's Zak, please come please save me...

The door slammed open. Isha and the other Ghost spun.

And there stood her knight in deadly black armor.

"YOU!" Mengsk roared. "Kill—"

BANG!

The Ghost fell to the ground, gasping, a bloody hole where his throat had been.

"Sorry, boss," Zak said, his voice sickeningly casual, "but we had a deal. I can't tolerate you breaking your end of the bargain."

Mengsk shook with fear and rage. "You treacherous little son of a—"

"Who's the one with the gun, here?" Zak pointed the weapon at Mengsk's head. "And I don't wanna hear your bullshit about the greater good. You just sit down and relax, and we'll handle this—oh, how do you like to put it? As gentlemen." He jerked his head at a chair.

Mengsk didn't move. "I'll have you killed for this!"

"There are worse things than death. Or haven't you been listening to a damn thing the kid has to say?"

"Sacrifices have to be made—"

"You wanna hear about sacrifices?!" Zak stepped closer, the rifle's muzzle inches away from Mengsk's nose. His voice was an inhuman hiss. "I've sacrificed nearly everything! The only thing I've got left is my life, and as soon as I took it back from the Confederacy I so graciously gave it to you! You're no revolutionist, Mengsk. You're just the same as they are. Now..."

Zak eased back, relaxing the gun point. "I'm willing to let you go, if you swear to never. Touch. Isha. Again. I'll even keep working for you. Just know that I'm not one of your pawns. Understand?"

Mengsk gulped, then nodded.

"Good." Zak backed towards the door, keeping the rifle aimed at Mengsk. "Come on, Isha, this bastard won't give you any more trouble."

"You're a fool, boy..."

"You shut up. Kid, you coming?"

Silence.

"Kid?"

No answer.

His killer's confidence evaporated away, and he took on an almost pathetic tone.

"Isha...?"

Isha was in her own little world.

_Her Master squeezed his fist slightly, crushing the bones in her frail wrist, and she let out a choked cry as he continued to drag her down the dimly-lit corridor. "Master—please, where are we going?"_

To have some fun.  
_  
She cringed, tears sliding silently down her face. Her Master's definition of "fun" was torture, plain and simple. Though she didn't know why they were leaving his quarters to do so... maybe he had a new plan for "fun" with his toy._

The hallway stopped abruptly, widening into a large room full of cushions and blankets made from dark silk. Isha didn't let her hope rise. She didn't know what they were for, but they weren't for her pleasure.

Two forms melted silently from the shadows, and she jumped, staring at them in confusion, almost awe. She had never seen others of her Master's kind other than her Master himself.

Her Master released her wrist, causing her to cry out again in pain, and shoved her lightly forward. They have worked very hard these past few months, my pet... and they deserve some reward, don't you think?__

She still didn't understand, staring up at them blankly. "I... yes?"

I thought you'd agree. My minions... have fun.  
_  
_Thank you, my Lord,_ they said in unison, bowing._

She didn't understand until they moved forward, their hands moving, undressing themselves. Then she backed up as fast as she could. "No! Please... Master, don't let them—"

Tsk tsk, they deserve it. Shall I join them as well?  
_  
"No please Master, don't! I'll do anything!"_

I'm sorry, my mind's made up. You should be flattered that they think of you as a reward.  
_  
"Master ple—" The first came at her, now completely naked, and she screamed as he knelt beside her, forcing her onto her back and straddling her... as soon as he was done the other came forward... and then again... and again... until the other became a little too eager and they clutched her at the same time—_

"NO! NO!"

Her Master stood just beyond her vision... smirking... one hand held against the bulge in his loincloth...

"Master! MASTER! Please!"

Pain and more pain and more pain and then they stopped and it was her Master's turn—

Somehow Isha was being held by Zak, she twisted and turned, screaming and sobbing. "No! No! Please!"

"Isha! Isha, it's okay, it's me!"

"Zak, he let them do it, he let them—"

"Okay, kid. It's okay."

"Zak..."

"Relax, kid. No one's gonna hurt you." Zak held her close, letting her sob and cry all she wanted. His face twisted in agony as her memories forced their way into his mind.

It was hell. They came and tore her up and...

"Ah! Damn it! Shut it out! Come on!" He began to sob, the pain too much to bear. She became heavy in his arms, and it took all his strength to carry her.

He felt her slipping away again.

"Stay with me, Isha. Stay with me and they can't get you, okay?"

Holding her like a small child, he flipped on his commlink.

"Lieutenant?"

_"Just where the hell have you been?"_

"Um... can I have the day off?"

The voice on the other end gave an understanding sigh. _"It's the kid, isn't it?"_

"Yeah."

_"Fine, but you'd better do something about her."_

The commlink clicked off. Zak sat down on the side of the bed, Isha still wound tightly in his arms.

"Hey, kid. You there?"

"Zak... Zak..."

"It's okay, Isha. You're with me."

She clutched him tightly, whimpering. Her voice was like a child's, high-pitched and afraid. "Don't let them..."

"They won't. Can you see the room?"

"Coushins and—"

"No. No. Look around you, Isha, please! We're _here,_ there are no monsters here..."

"Please Master don't put me in that, I'll be good..."

She felt arms around her—a gentle touch on her face, then Zak shifted and she felt something press against her lips. "Here, kid. Drink."

She tried to pull her head away, but he suddenly shook her roughly. "Dammit, kid! Drink!"

Again she tried to pull her head back, but he forced it past her lips and she swallowed the bitter-tasting liquid that poured into her throat. Immediately she choked, shoving his arm away and trying to spit out the hard liquor.

"Swallow it, kid. C'mon."

Barely she managed to swallow. "I don't like it."

"I know you don't. Have some more."

"No..." yet again the bottle was pressed to her lips, and again she tried to twist away, but he was much too strong and stubborn; she was forced to either swallow or drown. Like it or not, it began to clear her head, and finally she clutched at the bottle, sucking at it and the warm nothingness it brought.

"All right—all right kid, that's enough!" He pulled the bottle away. Isha swooned in his arms, half-drunk and loving every minute of the dulled pain it took.

"Zak... Zak, I wash goin to tell you, I wash... gonna come ouuuut... of the... bathroom... gonna tell you...I wash gonna..."

"It's okay, Isha. You don't need to tell me anything." He embraced her again, his hand running through her hair. Her thoughts were muddled from the drink, and it was better for the both of them. Of course, using it all the time would mean turning her from a druggie to an alcoholic... Best not to worry about it now.

"I wash... gonna come out n'... n' tell..."

"Don't talk now, Isha. You need to rest."

"Mm... nnhnkay..." She began to drift into a drunken doze, her breathing finally returning to normal.

Zak spent the longest time just staring at her, holding her in his arms. It felt so _right_, just having her there with him. She was all that mattered. She meant more than just something—she was _everything_.

_Huh,_ he reflected. _Guess that means I…_

No. Thinking it wasn't enough. He needed to say it. Somehow, that would make it seem real.

"Hey, Isha," he whispered. "Want to know a secret?"

She didn't respond. The maelstrom in her head had finally calmed, leaving her in a peaceful slumber. Either that, or she was so damn drunk there wasn't really a difference.

It didn't matter. He just needed to say it.

"I love you."

When Isha woke up, two days later, she _still_ had a hangover.

"Ohhh..."

The room spun. Isha squeezed her eyes shut, but that just made it worse, so she opened them again. She was reclining in her own bed, and—

_Oh, no..._

She was strapped down. "Zak?"

No answer. _He probably has some mission to do..._

But she _hated_ to be tied down, it brought back memories...

_Damn you Isha, _everything_ brings back memories! Just block them..._

"Zak...?"

She closed her eyes as nausea permeated her thoughts. _Just go back to sleep..._

When he was sure she was asleep again, Zak withdrew his mind. It was hard to keep a link like that, not to mention he'd never done it before... _successfully_ anyway...

And that was from only a couple hundred meters away. How was he supposed to pull it off when they might be hundreds of _kilometers_ apart?

He'd just have to practice. Feeling slightly drained, he unshouldered his canister rifle, giving it one final check before the big one.

Mensgk had stirred the Antigans into full-scale revolt against the Confederacy. In the distance, the rumbling of artillery fire could be heard. The Korhal-Antigan forces were in a deadlock with the Confederate army just over the canyon. They'd been dug in for two days now, and right now the rebels needed every man available.

Zak climbed aboard a Dropship, strapping himself in without so much as a glance at the other soldiers aboard.

An armor-clad Marine sitting next to him nudged him in the ribs, the combat suit making the blow a little harder than Zak would have liked. "You ready for this?"

Zak shifted as far to the other side of his seat as possible. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just do what we gotta do and get it over with."

"Hey, come on! Show a little excitement!"

Zak groaned. "Fine. Whoop-ee, let's go. Are you happy now?"

The Marine shrugged his heavily-plated shoulders. "Suit yourself."

Zak almost felt sorry for him. His name was Jurgis. He was a rookie, some farmer boy who'd enlisted in the local militia. He'd barely finished combat training, and hadn't been resocialized. No resoc meant it was a human being under the metal shell—a human being who still didn't know what it's like to see the elephant.

By the time the day was over, Jurgis would be a different person entirely.

The engines kicked, and with a lurch the Dropship took off. Zak closed his eyes to check on Isha one more time. She was sleeping—peacefully, for once. He adjusted himself back to reality.

_Sleep tight, kid._

He had a feeling he was going to be gone for a while.

Isha drifted in and out for about four days, her frail body attempting to overcome the use of alcohol. Through the entire time she grew more and more bitter towards the straps, hating them with all her heart, and squirmed against them whenever she was fully awake.

Someone, some random guy that Zak had bullied, came by every day to feed her and let her use the bathroom. Even he, however, was stronger than she, and every time forced her back into the straps, and soon she began to hate him, too.

"Fuck you!" she would scream, fighting savagely as, one by one, he tightened the straps. "Get me the fuck out of here! Let me go!" This did not help the poor boy's wits at all, and the result was that he tightened them even more every time he utilized them, until she finally realized that every time she screamed and lashed out the circulation in her wrists and ankles threatened to be cut off.

She went through the madness twice, each time breaking her arm, which had not been set correctly from prior injuries. And each time, the time of warning was shorter. And shorter… she realized that they had to do something. Anything. They had to find her drug.

It was killing her.

When was Zak coming back? She longed for him.

The boy informed her that there was a new recruit, someone who ran afoul of the Confederacy, and he had a whole contingent of freed soldiers; they were attempting to starve a world of minerals and take it over.

Finally, she was moved to another room—on a ship. Another few days went by, as they moved to the planet they had so recently acquired. It all went by on a blur… Marines, Ghosts, Firebats, she saw them all, but she didn't see Zak…

"Kid?"

Shock. She opened her eyes to see his inquisitive face peering down at her; she felt the bonds around her be released. Her arm throbbed.

"Zak," she whispered. "Please… please… don't put me in these again…"

Zak let her hug him, noticing that one arm had gone limp. He reached out for it, feeling it carefully...

"Ah!" Isha doubled over, clutching her broken arm.

"You did that to yourself?" he asked flatly.

"I... I don't..." Isha bit her lip. "I guess so."

"Then no more straps. We need to go." Zak stood up without so much as a glance.

The Zerg were coming.

_Jurgis was down in the pits, clutching his weapon to his chest, his eyes wide with panic and heavy use of stimulants. "My God," he rasped, "my God my God my..."_

_"Private!" someone barked. "Get a hold of yourself!"_

_They'd done it. The ground forces had kept the Confederates busy while an aireal strike team raised the base to the ground. Antiga Prime was now in their control._

_And as soon as it was over, they'd gotten a buzz from Mengsk. The Confederate flagship Norad II had been downed by Zerg, and he felt the general in command would make a potent ally._

_They had spent three days in hell._

_"There's no fucking end to 'em, man!"_

_"Keep fraggin' 'em! Keep fraggin' 'em!"_

_The soldiers around Zak were scared out of their minds, emptying round after round into the endless swarm of monsters around them. The Zerg had the advantage of numbers, and it was only a matter of time before they picked off what was left of Zak's company._

_But they couldn't hear them. Those boys couldn't feel the pulse of thought emanating from every single beast around them. KILL... KILL... KILL..._

_Zak was alone, running for his life. He knew behind him that Jurgis had been dragged down by the tide of abominations, along with the rest of so many men..._

_The monsters were after him. But they wouldn't kill him. They wanted him. They'd take him and make him one of them..._

"Zak...?"

He jumped, whipping his combat knife out of its sheath on his thigh. They weren't going to get him! He'd kill every last one of them before he...

He finally registered the frail, sickly girl staring terrified up at him, his knife at her throat. He'd almost killed her...

"Don't... don't talk to me right now."

"Okay," Isha whimpered, eyes wide. There was something wrong, something wrong... "Zak please, what's wrong? What's happening?" She followed him as he began to run down the hallway, clutching her arm. "Zak! Slow down!"

He was in weapon mode, running, his eyes cold and calculating.

"Please... slow down..."

"We can't. We have to go. Now."

"I'm going but I can't—can't keep—"

He turned and scooped her up so fast she gasped. "Fine."

There were screams, inhuman screams echoing down the halls...

"What's going on?!"

The outpost was being overrun. Zak's cold, stoic mind flew through possible situations and numbers. He guessed they had twenty minutes to get their asses out of there and to the main camp. Tops.

The Zerg were closer, so close that he could begin to feel the sickening pulse of their alien minds.

_KILL... KILL... KILL..._

Screaming. Gunfire.

He rounded the corner to find a huge, snake-bodied monster standing in his path. It hissed, rasing its scythe-like claws above its armored head.

"Don't look, Isha. Keep your eyes closed."

He fired three quick shots at the beast, the fourth finally penetrating its thick carapace and bringing it down. Zak didn't wait for it to fall before dashing past it.

There were dead all around him, sprawled like limp dolls on the floor, mangled in increasingly horrific ways.

"Operative 27 to _Big Red_," Zak spoke into his helmet. "I'm coming up. Got room for two?"

"Big Red_ to 27. You'd better haul ass, buddy."_

"Trust me, I'm hauling."

More gunfire up ahead. Inhuman screeching, then silence. A group of Marines blocked the hallway, the twisted forms of Zerg minions fresh and bleeding before them. Zak shoved through them, his surroundings a blur.

They were back aboard the ship, flying away. Safe.

For now.

-----

"They come from the same creatures that created the Protoss," Isha said, several hours later.

"What creatures?"

"I... I don't know. I remember Master talking about them... the Zell... something. I can't remember." Isha closed her eyes, trying to think. "Zell... Xel? I just can't..."

"That's fine, kid. So. It's a war between the Protoss and the Zerg and we got stuck in the middle."

"I suppose so..."

She sat on the bed, absently playing with his rifle. He didn't seem to notice; if he did, he'd probably take it away. He lounged beside her, still in his combat suit—but without his helmet, which she had tremulously asked him to take off.

"Where does your Master enter into all of this?" He murmured, thinking. She flinched. "Sorry kid, but we have to think about it. He must be... some sort of outlaw. I mean, if they're all well-meaning and shit, won't he go against them?"

"He _is_ an outlaw. He's a Dark Templar. He was exiled years and years ago... with the rest of his kind."

An exile. A criminal. It made sense. Zak nodded to himself. "Okay. So the Protoss are after the Zerg because they're afraid of them... Huh. Kinda cowards, aren't they? They show up and knock off two planets, then disappear whenever anybody tries to engage them. Don't play with the scope, kid; it's a bitch to line it back up."

Isha looked up, then hastily took her hand away from the scope mounted on the gun's barrel. "Sorry."

Zak continued, "The Zerg are after the Protoss for some reason we don't quite get, and we just happened to get in the way. Lovely." He leaned back, exhaling to relieve the tension left over from earlier that day.

"Anything else you can tell me about the Protoss?"

Isha cringed, her thoughts once again returning to her bloody past.

"If you don't want to think about it, that's fine. I'm thinking about getting some sleep, anyway."

Isha shook her head, rubbing her bandaged arm. _No._ Things had happened because she was a coward; she needed to stop running... And anyway, if she didn't, she might never get the courage to talk of it again.

So she began to speak. She told him of the Khaydarin crystals, she told him of the Khala. She told him of the outlaws; the Dark Templar, and someone named "Adun." She told him of some of their culture; their honor-bound, warrior culture, and her Master's hatred of them. She spoke until her throat was dry, and ran out of things to say; finally she looked around for something to drink.

The bottle of alcohol was poking out of his utility belt. Curious, she reached over to pluck it away.

"Oh, no, kid. You can't have that." Zak put his hand over the bottle. "If you're thirsty, I have water."

"Oh..." Isha hung her head, embarrassed.

Zak handed her a canteen. "I drained most of it, but it should be enough." Isha snatched it and drank greedily. Then, after sucking it dry, blushed and handed it back.

Zak shook his head. "Relax. I can get more. Now, I'm gonna get some shut eye. Don't do anything you'll regret; I'm a light sleeper." He stood up, stretched his worn, tired back, then lay down on the floor. "You can have the cot."

"But... Zak—"

"Good night, Isha." Zak stubbornly shut his eyes. The cot wasn't much better than the floor, anyway.

Isha stared at him, trying to think of a reason to get him to sleep in the bed. It was no use; she couldn't think of anything and he was either ignoring her or sleeping.

She bit her lip and looked at the gun again. It lay, seemingly innocent, on the pillows, and carefully, almost reverently, she lifted it and brought it to lay on the floor beside her. Then she slipped into the cot.

She couldn't sleep. The memory of the enormous snakelike alien haunted her, its piercing red eyes burning into her mind... the scythes gleaming deadly and sharp... tossing and turning, she finally gave up and sat up.

"Zak?"

He said nothing. Either he was still ignoring her or completely asleep.

Slipping out of the cot, she tiptoed over and sat beside him, then hesitantly lay down, her head on his arm. _Now_ she was safe. Now the alien couldn't get her.

Isha always felt warm and protected in his presence. She didn't know why... maybe it was because he had saved her life on more than one occasion, saved her from the hell of her memories, saved her from herself, saved her from her Master. When he was near... everything was okay.

She closed her eyes and slept.

Sleep—one of the few pleasures Zak had in life. Usually, he never got more than a couple hours at a time, and his nightmares were waiting for him, but every once in a rare while he could truly rest.

Sometime during the night, he heard Isha's voice. Then her frail body was next to his, waking him up for one swift moment. Her thoughts confused him—relief, security... She felt safe with him, safe from the Zerg and her master and her own terrible curse.

_Let her sleep_, he told himself, and in a few seconds followed her example.

All too soon, he was awake again. She was still beside him, warm and motionless.

He got up slowly, careful not to wake her. It almost pained him to leave her side...

But he had to take a leak. He tiptoed into the bathroom, silently cursing his own bodily functions.

When Isha woke up again, she was back in the cot with Zak beside her. Some time during the night he must have transferred them both to the bed... whatever.

She looked up at him. He was awake, and watching her silently. "Morning," she whispered. He grinned and ruffled her hair.

Isha smiled at him, then thought a moment. "Zak? Can you teach me how to shoot a gun?"

Zak sat up, stretching out his arms and back as he did so. "A gun? I thought you weren't interested in that kind of thing."

"Well," Isha began, "I just—"

"Eh! Had a little fun last night, eh, Ghostie? Ain'chu jest da ladies' man! Hoo-whee!"

Zak shot a look of pure venom at the intruder. "Isha, could you excuse me for a sec?" He rose to his feet and cracked his knuckles.

"Sheeyit, Ghostie, I didn't mean nothin' by it!" With a squeak, the boy bolted.

Zak smirked to himself. So, the boy had been able to escape as well... Pity. Oh well, it was fun to have someone to torment.

He sat back down, unusually cheerful. "Anyway, you were saying?"

"I... just thought..." Isha hesitated, biting her lip. How was she to explain it? "Well... never mind, then... I..." hastily she changed the subject. "What did he mean, 'had a little fun'?"

Zak's face flushed. Isha had a bad habit of asking all the wrong questions. "Um... well, he's an idiot, so it doesn't matter."

Isha cocked her head. "But what does—"

"Nothing."

"But—"

"Nothing!"

"_Za-_aak..."

"He just thought that... you and I were... you know, and..." He sighed. "Forget it. He made a wrong assumption, that's all."

"...Okay." Isha stared at the floor, still a little confused. "How does making the wrong assumption make him an idiot?"

"Trust me. He's an idiot."

Isha shrugged, then got up. "I, um... is there a library here? I wanted to see if... I could... you know. Try an' figure out how old I am. I don't know how long it's been..." she fidgeted. "You don't have to go anywhere today, right?"

Zak shrugged. "No idea. Who knows with _those_ shitheads runnin' the place... But until then, I'm sure we can go and do a little poking around. Did you mean like _books_ library or just somewhere you can look up records? Books are tough to come across in large quantities, but any ol' comp will give you access to public data."

Isha was silent for a moment, thinking. Out of respect, Zak stayed out of her head. "Uh, just data, I think."

Zak smiled. "Okay, kid. Tell you what; if you're still interested, I'll teach you how to shoot afterwards."

Isha's face brightened as she nodded.

"Good. Now, let me get outta this damn suit and get on some civ clothes first, all right?" He grabbed a lump of clothing from his pile of gear, then stepped into the bathroom. As he exchanged his second skin for the drab, loose wear of a civilian, he felt a bit exposed and incomplete, but he'd get over it. He'd done it a thousand times before.

_Poor kid. Doesn't even know how old she is..._

That was all right. He didn't remember his own age, either.

Isha clung to him as they traversed the hallways, cringing away from others as they approached and only relaxing when they left. She still was not very used to too many people, and it bothered her to see them casually walking along, sometimes even brushing against them absently.

After a little while they found the library, a huge room with tons of computers; more so than books. Zak chose a computer a little farther away from the rest of the perusing people, and they sat down together.

It was then that Isha made the most embarrassing, horrible discovery as Zak's fingers blurred over the keyboard.

She'd forgotten how to read.

_Oh, no! I can't believe I've forgotten how to read I'm so stupid how could I forget something like—_

"You aren't stupid. Would you like me to read it for you?"

Isha's inner monologue came to a halt. "Oh," she said quietly, her hands fidgeting nervously. "Yes, please."

Zak shook his head. _Poor kid._ He turned back to the screen. "Okay, what I've got here is the main directory for school enrollment. Unless you lived outside the Confederacy or on a colonial world, we should be able to figure out your age by when and where you went to school."

Isha said nothing, continuing to fidget.

"You don't remember much from before, do you?"

She bit her lip and shook her head. Zak could tell she was trying to stop from crying.

"Hey, it's okay." He wrapped his arms around her, his voice soft and comforting. "There's some things I can't remember, either. You just tell me what you know, and we'll figure it out together, all right?"

Her voice was miserable. "I remember murdering Principal Kelly. If you look up the date of her death, you can find—" she swallowed. "—can find my age from this year minus that year... because I was thirteen then."

"Okay, kid."

His fingers flew over the keyboard, searching and searching until he found what he was looking for—a news story. "Principal of Local Public School Brutally Murdered."

"Here we go," Zak said, and began to read.

_... Was found stabbed 37 times..._

Zak gritted his teeth. It wasn't her. _He'd_ made her do it.

Skipping over the article, his eyes fell on the date.

Isha reverted her gaze from the pictures of the mangled woman. _I did this... I killed her._

Without warning she was driven into the memory.

_"...and furthermore, you're a very smart girl, Isha. Why you don't apply yourself more I will never understand. Do you know your IQ? 165! It's amazing, Isha, you could have skipped a grade by now and be already into high school..."_

Isha gritted her teeth. Her well-muscled, tanned arms folded impatiently across her chest, and her ice-blue eyes glared furiously at the principal. Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up...

"Instead, you insist on picking fights and never studying! What is it with you, Isha? Is it about your parents? I understand that it was a horrible tragedy, and you're still scarred by it, but you must understand yourself—what would your parents say? They would want you to strive your hardest, don't you think?"

Fuck you, you stupid piece of shit. You can go soak your head in a pot of piss.

That is not a pleasant thought, Isha.  
_  
She froze. He was here.  
_  
Of course I am, my little pet... I never let you out of my sight.  
_  
"Isha? Are you listening to me?"_

"Yeah," she said automatically, her eyes trying to find the telltale ripple of her stalker.

"I asked you a question, why aren't you answering?"

Because you're a stupid piece of shit. "All right, you caught me, I wasn't listening. What d'you want?"

"See? That is exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about! Your attitude! If you change it you might actually get better grades! If you don't, what will happen to you? You might find yourself in a horrible job that you hate for the rest of your life—"

Drop dead. Just drop dead. I wish you would just DROP DEAD, DAMMIT!

Be careful what you wish for,_ the monster breathed behind her. _You just might get it.__

Go away!

A deep chuckle. Then—

There was a sharp pinch at the base of her neck. Isha flinched, but was far too used to it to do much. It was just the drug—

Heat flooded through her body. Far too much heat. She didn't remember the drug ever having that kind of affect—

I told you to be careful of what you wish for.  
_  
KILL._

Something heavy dropped into her lap, bruising her thighs. She dragged her head down to look.

A deep blue metal knife...

"Run," she croaked.

"Isha?"

"Run! RUN RUN RUN R--"

—blood—

The chair clattered to the floor as Isha lunged to her feet, racing out of the library.

She hit something hard. Hands held her upright when she almost fell, firm but gentle. "Hey there. Goin' somewhere in a hurry?"

She looked up, panting. A bearded man smiled warmly down at her. "Relax, will ya? Name's Raynor."

Zak was bent over in his chair, clutching his head. He was overflowing with gruesome images, and he saw himself—no, not him, it was Isha—stab the poor woman over and over. He could feel the insane bloodlust so vividly... hear the monster's cruel laughter so clearly...

_Shut it OUT!_

He was shaking, sweating, and breathing heavily. He should have known how Isha would react... He should have been able to prevent it...

He'd made them both vulnerable. He hissed a curse, damning himself for being so _stupid_...

Finally, he regained enough control to stand up. His legs felt boneless, and he grabbed madly for the chair to steady himself.

"Isha?"

She was nowhere to be seen. Panic gripped at his insides.

He'd been right beside her, and yet he'd done nothing to stop her.

"Dammit," he growled, forcing himself to walk. He had to find her. She needed him.

------------

"Whoa, it's okay. Relax." The man named "Raynor" held her up gently as she gasped for breath, his eyes sliding over her abnormal body. She tugged away and stood, shaking and swaying violently.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded absently, squeezing her eyes shut. "Where... where am I? I think I'm lost..."

Raynor smiled. "Section 42-A." Seeing her confused look, he added, "It's a few decks down from... the library."

Funny. She didn't remember descending stairs...

"Where were you headed, anyway?"

"I... nowhere. I just... needed to..." she hesitated. No way was she going to tell him. "Just... I don't... the library. I need to go to the library."

He smiled again and patted her shoulder. "Okay, I'll bring you there. Follow me."

Zak bolted down the hallway, feeling Isha's presence grow closer.

"Isha!" he shouted when she came into site, then skidded to a halt when he saw the man with her.

"Captain," he grunted, straightening himself. James Raynor had been his commanding officer during the Antigan revolt. The man had earned his respect.

"I told you not to call me that."

"Habit," Zak replied. He glanced at Isha. "Is she all right?"

Raynor nodded. "A bit shaken, but she should be fine."

"So," Isha whispered, staring straight ahead, "how old am I?"

Raynor looked down at her, surprised. "You don't...?"

She shook her head, still staring directly in front of her.

Zak sighed. "It's a long story. Trust me, you don't want to hear it."

Raynor raised a bushy eyebrow. "What—"

"Don't ask. I mean it."

The captain shrugged. "Yeah, okay. See you around." He turned to leave, giving a quick wave over his shoulder. Zak caught a wisp of his thoughts. _Damn crazy psychics..._

Isha was still staring straight ahead, silent and motionless.

Zak put a hand on her shoulder. "Seven years, kid."

"Seven," she breathed.

He bent down in fron of her and looked straight into her eyes. "You're twenty."

_Twenty?_ She felt younger than that... or was it older? Still in her dreamlike state, she allowed Zak to take her by the hand and lead her back into the room.

Then she stirred, and looked up at him. "Teach me," she said. "Teach me everything."

Her determination seemed to swirl around her like fire. She wanted to know everything—fighting, shooting, first aid... All the things that had taken him a lifetime to perfect.

"You know what you're getting yourself into, right?"

She nodded.

"You're sure?"

She nodded again.

Zak's eyes fell to the floor as he ran a hand over his scalp. Could she handle it? She was a tough kid.

Then again, she wasn't really a kid.

"Okay, Isha. If you really want to learn, it won't be easy. I won't cut you any slack. You're gonna go to bed sore and aching every night for weeks..." He dug through his gear, then pulled out his glistening, deadly combat knife. It was still sharp, even after all the abuse he'd put it though...

He handed it to Isha. "Come at me."

She lunged.

With one quick movement Zak nearly danced to one side, his hand snapping around and clamping over her wrist, squeezing so hard her numbed fingers soon dropped the knife, sending it clattering to the metal floor.

She growled softly, glaring at him. He held her eyes.

"Don't pull away; you'll break your wrist. Would you like me to tell you what you did wrong?"

She growled again.

Zak shook his head. "Okay, then. You can learn the hard way." He let go of her wrist and picked up the knife. "Try again."

She attacked him three more times before admitting she needed help, and listened sullenly while he explained, then attacked again.

"Don't clench it in your fist like that. Hold it like _this_, see? This way gives you more control and a bigger range of motion. Try to go around my defenses, not through. Don't blindly attack, either; find the proper place to strike—arteries, neck, vitals. Keep striking until you're sure they're down. Know how I'm blocking you and counter it. And don't hesitate. _Ever_. One slip is all it takes."

Zak released her from an arm lock, taking the knife away from her throat and handing it to her. "One more time."

Isha took a deep breath and came at him again, but this time didn't rush blindly. Instead, she waited for him to counterstrike, then dove down and slashed at his inner knee.

He stepped away. There was a split second of hesitation for his part, a momentary lapse—she leaped again, and suddenly found herself in a choke hold. He had been faking.

She sighed.

Zak released his hold. "That's enough. You're doing pretty good, kid. Maybe next time you'll get me. Go take a break."

He plopped down on the cot, wiping the sweat off his brow. Isha was a fast learner. She was actually getting tough to deflect...

He felt a slight stinging on the inside of his knee. He looked down to see a small rip in his pants and a thin red line on his skin.

She'd managed to hit him. Only a small scratch, barely enough to penetrate the skin, but...

He'd been damn lucky. Any deeper and he'd have a permanent limp. He couldn't afford to go easy on her any more.

"Hey, look at that. You got me, kid."

Isha bolted over, her previous exhaustion gone. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He laughed. "You cut me, that's for sure, but don't worry kid. I've had worse." He patted her shoulder. "You're pretty good for a beginner."

She was still worried, biting her lip uncertainly. "But... you're not hurt?"

"I'm fine, kid." He shooed her gently away, picking up a rag and dabbing slightly at the wound. She sat down on the bed, wiping sweat off her brow and rubbing the feeling back into her aching limbs.

"Zak," she said suddenly, wanting to ask him something that had been on her mind for a while.

"Yeah, kid."

"I—um—" _How am I going to tell him this?_ "It's—it's about my Master... he..."

She had his attention now; he gazed at her sharply.

"When he—um—molested me—"

She couldn't. She couldn't tell him that, sometimes, through the pain, he would pleasure her, and make sure that she enjoyed it. She couldn't tell him that he would confuse her, deliberately pleasure her—

It was too humiliating to ask if it was wrong to feel the pleasure she did. She just couldn't. He wasn't her father. How could he possibly answer her and look at her the same way again?

"Never mind," she mumbled, and fled into the bathroom to take a shower.

Isha couldn't tell him. Then again, she didn't have to.

Zak knew what she wanted to say. And she was right. He couldn't explain—not really, anyway. There was, of course, the biological aspect, which would be easy enough to understand...

But he was numb. Years of special training had knocked all the urges out of him. Sure, everything probably still _worked,_ but he wouldn't get any pleasure out of it. Just another bodily function. Whoop-de-freakin'-doo.

Then why did he long to be with her so much? Why did he wish for her to be by his side?

Because she needed him. She needed someone to protect her...

He'd kill him. He'd kill that bastard that did that to her. He'd kill him he'd kill him he'd kill him.

He dabbed absentmindedly at his wound, wondering if Isha remembered how to use a shower.

"OUCH!"

Isha leapt back from the near-boiling water, scowling. How the hell did you _work_ that thing? Everything she did completely screwed it up!

Peeking out of the bathroom, she scowled again—Zak was trying not to laugh, keeping his face almost straight and still wiping the wound.

"It's not funny," she said, miffed.

"Of course not."

"It's not!"

"I agreed with you."

She sniffed and glared. He almost—but not quite—let out a small grin. "Saw that."

"And?"

She sighed. "Can you help me with this thing?"

He casually waltzed into the bathroom, turned the knob on the shower, then held his hand under it for a moment, checking the temperature.

"Is this okay?"

Isha slowly put her hand under the stream. "Um... I think so..."

"Good. Red means hot, blue means cold. Turn the knob to adjust it. And no, I'm not looking. Go ahead and wash up." He began to walk out, but paused at the door.

"You know, you really need to eat more. Your bones are poking out of your skin all over the place."

A bar of soap went flying at the back of his head. He sidestepped, grinning. "Missed," he said calmly as he exited, shutting the door behind him.

He figured Isha would be a while, so set to his routine. The exercises were blessed relief, especially after today's lesson.

It took him some time to stop chuckling. Poor kid.

_How am I going to repay him?_

That was the primary thought running through her head as she washed, the hot water a relief to her aching muscles. How could she possibly repay what he'd done for her, what he _continued_ to do for her?

There was nothing... unless...

Her Master always told her what he enjoyed, and made her comply. Zak wasn't her Master—far from it—but every man enjoyed the same things, right?

She finished washing and stepped out, then turned on the water and let it fill. Maybe if...

Stepping out, she pointed to the bathroom. "Filled it for you..."

Zak blinked as he looked up from his push-ups. "Thanks kid... didn't I tell you not to work your ass off for me?"

"Yeah..."

He sighed and got up, then tousled her hair and went into the bathroom.

She waited until she could hear him step into the water, then pulled the towel off herself and went inside, slipping behind him and starting to wash his back.

He sat bolt upright. Whirling, he stared, gaping, at her nude form crouched behind him. _"Isha...!"_

Isha immediately curled into a ball. "I—I just wanted—"

"Jesus—" He leapt up and grabbed two towels, thrusting one toward her and the other around himself. "Isha, get—"

Eyes full of tears, she took the towel and bolted from the bathroom. _I only wanted to please him..._

"Aw, hell, Isha, wait—"

Thud.

Bathroom floors hated him.

He scrambled to his feet, tightened the towel, and opened the door. Isha was hiding in a corner, sobbing pathetically.

"Hey, you don't have to cry, kid..." He sat down next to her, partially registering what a damn awkward situation they were both in.

Isha hiccuped. "I... j-just... I..."

"I'm not your master, Isha. Stop trying to please me."

"B-but—"

"You want to make me happy? Then you make yourself happy, okay? Don't worry about me."

Isha sniffed and nodded. With a last pat on the shoulder, Zak went to finish his bath.

_Make_ myself _happy_? But what would make _her_ happy was making _him_ happy...

What was she to do?

Slowly she dried herself, throwing on some clothes. She was so damned _confused_...

The door opened. Surprised, Isha turned to stare at the young flame-haired woman who entered, green eyes watching her sharply.

"Um... hi?"

She nodded once. "You're Isha."

It wasn't a question. Gulping, Isha nodded, cringing back as the woman swept in. In several ways she was just like Zak—graceful, deadly. "Where's Operative 27?"

"Uh... what?"

She sighed. "Zak."

"Taking a bath..."

The woman nodded and knocked on the bathroom door.

Kerrigan didn't need to knock; Zak knew she was there.

"Hello, Lieutenant."

"Mind telling me what the hell you're doing in there?"

"Uh, taking a frickin' _bath?_" Zak splashed the water for emphasis.

"Does this place look like a spa to you?"

"No."

"Then get your ass out. We've got a job to do, then we're ditching this place."

_Ditching? That's odd._ "Details?"

"Classified. Can't say out loud." The Lieutenant's voice seemed choked—was she upset?

Zak focused on her thoughts. _More Confederates have arrived. There's too many for us to take on. Mengsk plans on using the emitter._

_The what?_

_The psi emitter. It's a weapon designed by the Confederates. It emits an artificial psychic signal—_

_Hence the name._

_—That lure the Zerg to it like a beacon._

That made sense. He'd been face to face with the creatures, and he'd noticed they'd seemed drawn to him... Hell, more than noticed; he still could feel it when he closed his eyes.

_The emitter is what brought the Zerg to Mar Sara._

_What?_ He looked deeper into her mind—the experiments, the research, the hell they'd put her though, the secrets that even _he_ hadn't known about...

... Until now.

_Mengsk is gonna fuck 'em all._

_And then the Protoss will show up and burn whatever's left._ Kerrigan was overflowing—hatred, regret, grief...

_Guess we don't have a choice, then._ Zak got out and began to dry himself. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

"See ya there, 27."

He waited until he heard her shut the door, then slapped on his pants and stepped into the room.

"Isha, I've gotta go." He scooped up his gear and went back behind the bathroom door.

"Zak—"

He suited up at an unbelievably rapid pace. Just get it over with; screw everybody over and get out. Drop the bomb and run.

He re-emerged in full, combat-ready glory. He patted Isha's shoulder as he began to leave. "You just be ready to leave when I get back, okay?"

"Go where?"

"Don't know, but it won't be safe here for much longer. Take care, kid."

And he was gone.

Why didn't anyone _ever_ tell her what was going on around here?!

_Because you're scared of everything,_ her inner voice mocked.

_Shut up..._

Quickly she packed her meager belongings—a few clothes and the small knife he had given her—and sat on the bed, waiting.

Her fingernails—claws, rather—had begun to grow back, and they were about half an inch long.

Taking her knife, she cut them down, shaving them down to long, hooked claws.

Then she followed Zak, keeping to the shadows.

------------

"This is 27, checking in," Zak said to his helmet.

_"About time,"_ someone on the other end replied. _"You know what to do?"_

"Keep to the south, check for trouble."

_"Tell us when it's clear. We've got a nice little present waiting for our Confeddy pals, and we're gonna deliver it, ASAP."_

"Yes, sir. Over and out."

Zak perched on a boulder, scanning the low-lying brush around him. It was a damn nice day out. Chilly, but nice. A large, gray animal was grazing near by. It lifted its heavy, wrinkled head, grunted, and went back to munching away.

It really sucked that it would all be gone soon.

He loaded his rifle, well aware of Isha's presence not too far away. He knew she had followed him, and had been moving quickly to try and lose her, but she was determined. He supposed he could have cloaked, but knew it was best to save energy for later.

"I know you can hear me, kid. Go home."

She lifted her chin, scowling. "No," she muttered, glaring at his general direction. She could practically _feel_ his exasperated sigh. "I'm staying."

_Besides, I belong with you._

He gritted his teeth behind his mask. Damn kid knew how to get under his skin...

But she'd just slow him down. She'd be putting herself in danger for no reason other than to satisfy her own pathetic emotional needs.

Then again, hadn't he told her that she should do what _she_ wanted? For once she was thinking for herself.

"Dammit, Isha..." He slid down from his perch, pushing a large shrub aside to find Isha crouching behind it.

"Do you want to get yourself _killed?_"

She smiled smugly. "I'm twenty years old. I can do what I want, Zak."

She had never felt so clear-headed in her life. She _knew_ what she wanted. She wanted Zak. And she'd go through hell to stay with him.

"Oh, well that's just fucking _fine!_" Zak hissed. Isha knew what she wanted, and unless he knocked her unconscious and left her there, she was going to get it. Her thoughts were clear and focused. Her emotions were confusing him—no one had ever _wanted_ to be with him, especially not to the point of willing to _die_ for his sake... Needless to say, it pissed him off.

She left him no choice. She was coming along, whether he liked it or not.

He jabbed a finger at her. "If you stay, then you can kiss that whole do-what-you-want mentality good_bye_. When I say down, you drop and _stay_ down. When I say run, you run like hell, got it?"

Isha nodded once.

He whirled and stalked away, and she cringed slightly before following. He was mad; she never wanted to make him _mad_...

But...

All the same, she felt triumph. She actually dictated, for once in her life, what she was going to do. She _was_ in control... at least, mostly. And she hadn't gotten beaten or raped because of it. Isha felt pride swell in her breast, and fought the joy that she felt, knowing Zak could feel it and embarrassed because he could.

They had gone two miles when they hit their first Confederate patrol group.

"Down," he whispered, touching his belt and flickering out of existence.

Two Goliath walkers, mechanized and deadly, stalked across the plains, their cockpits swiveling on their powerful legs as the pilots within scanned for enemies.

Zak fiddled with a panel on the side of his helmet, adjusting to the proper frequency.

_"... Nothing out here."_

_"This is headquarters. Continue search."_

_"I'm telling you, there isn't anything out here 'cept a couple freakin' Rhynadons..."_

_"The rebs are right over that cliff, Akawa. You can't be too careful."_

_"Well, if they're over there, then why don't we go get 'em?"_

_"We're talking about the freakin' Sons of Korhal, here. They've got a whole damn army!"_

_"You boys shut up and do your job."_

_"Psh, yeah you can—hold up, I got a blip."_

Zak tensed up. Had they seen him?

No, they couldn't...

Isha!

_Uh-oh..._

They had seen her. Isha bit her lip, glancing at where she knew Zak was. She could tell his mind was racing wildly, trying to think of some way to get them both out of the mess she had gotten them into. _I'm stupid. I'm stupid and I don't deserve to live...Zak was right. I should have just stayed home._

But her home was by his side.

Isha took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing—focusing on _not being..._

_"What are you talking about? I don't got no blip."_

_"Huh... it was right there... that's weird."_

_"Get your sensors checked. Probably dirt on your sensor panel or something."_

_"Yeah, you're probably right... but what if it was a Ghost?"_

_"If it was a Ghost,"_ the other snapped as the two towering metal machines stalked away, _"your sensors wouldn't have picked up anything at all."_

Then they were gone.

Isha collapsed to the ground, the shadows around her slipping away.

Zak felt a sudden surge of raw energy. He snapped his head in Isha's direction.

She was gone. Vanished. He could still feel her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

And then with a flicker she was back. The power spike he had felt melted away. She hit the ground, exhausted.

She had _cloaked._ He didn't know how, but she'd done it.

And it scared him. Just what else was this strange girl capable of?

"Well, shit." He clicked off his cloak and leapt to her side.

"You are just full of surprises, aren't you?" He hauled her up into a sitting position. "Mind telling me what the hell just happened?"

"Um... I have no clue," she whispered, rubbing her suddenly throbbing head. Spying Zak's water container, she grabbed it and drained it, then realized what she'd done and groaned silently. "Sorry..."

He waved a hand impatiently, disregarding that, glaring at her. She cringed and stared at the ground, unwilling to look into the black eye sockets of his deadly mask.

"You don't know."

"No."

"Can you do it again?"

She shook her head wildly, then grabbed her head again to stop the pounding. "I think," she said faintly, and hating herself for saying it, "I'm gonna go home now."

"Sorry, kid, but after that little magic trick of yours, I'm not letting you out of my sight... metaphorically, anyway." Zak flicked on his commlink. "27 to base."

_"Find anything?"_

"A pair of Goliaths. They got bored and went home."

_"Okay, we'll be delivering within the next five hours. Stand by for orders to pull out."_

"Roger that, sir."

_"Sit tight and keep us posted. Over and out."_

Zak flicked the comm off. "We're gonna be heading out in a little bit, anyway. Think you can tough it out for a couple hours?"

Isha stared at the ground.

"Stop feeling so damn guilty, kid. What you did was amazing."

But what _had_ she done? She didn't even know... there was a blank spot where her memory should be.

A horrible thought occurred to her as they waited in the plains. "What... what if the Protoss could sense what I did?"

Zak sat upright. _Now, there's a thought._ "I doubt they could from here, kid. Maybe up close, but not from here."

He reclined again, thinking to himself. She'd done the same thing her master had... he'd have to thank him before he killed him.

_Yeah, thanks, you bastard. Gonna fuckin' kill him..._

Isha was still nervous. Her thoughts kept wandering to worst-case scenarios...

"Stop that, Isha. Chances are you'll never be face to face with a Protoss again."

Four hours left to go. Damn, it was boring...

The rest of the four hours went by very, very slowly. Isha soon found herself snuggled up against Zak, resting her head on his arm again, with one of his arms nestled around her. "Zak?" she asked, over the whine of the approaching Dropship's engines.

"Yeah, kid."

"Are you... really mad at me?"

"Mad at you? Perhaps moderately pissed that you followed me out into a war zone, but you'd wind up getting dragged into this sooner or later, so no, I'm not mad. You scared me, though. Be careful, okay?"

She nestled closer to him. "Okay."

They boarded the rickety-looking vessel, receiving several odd glances from its passengers.

_What the hell? Who's the curve?_

_Hey, I didn't know we could bring a friend..._

Zak put a protective arm around Isha, blocking out the thoughts of the others.

However, he could not block out their voices.

"Christ, what is she, your _pet_?!"

Pet...

_Come here, my pet... I think it's time we had a little fun..._

No!

In a flash, Zak had his hands on the perpetrator's throat. His voice was a hissing, inhuman growl. "Don't... _ever…_ call her that!"

"Hell, man, what's your problem? I didn't mean to piss you off or anything," the man squeaked.

Zak's surroundings came into focus and he realized what he was doing. "Erm... sorry." He almost reluctantly backed off.

Silently, he checked that Isha was strapped in properly, then sat down next to her, still inwardly fuming.

Isha stared at him in awe, then leaned her head against him again, as much as she could anyway with the straps pinning her to the seat. _I love you, Zak_.

He glanced at her, and she could almost feel his smile through that awful mask of his. His hand squeezed hers.

It was an uneventful flight. Soon they were docking, startling Isha out of a slight doze, and Zak gently undid her from the seat when her exhausted fingers failed to open the straps. She stood, wobbling, and he twined an arm around her waist to lead her off the ship.

She was asleep before her head hit their new cot's pillow.

For such a massive ship, one would think that the facilities within could afford to be made marginally comfortable.

However, the _Hyperion_ was, after all, a military vessel. Comfort was the last thing to be addressed. Everything was made of cold metal, ridiculously cramped, and, of course, unbelievably utilitarian. Zak didn't mind too much--he was used to that kind of environment--but couldn't help but wish the cot was long enough for him to lie flat.

Isha was in the bunk across from him, sleeping soundly. Kid could go out like a light at a moment's notice...

"Nngh!" Zak tumbled from the bunk, clutching his head. It felt as if it were being ripped apart by a giant vice. He was overpowered by a loud, constant ringing—a psychic wail that shot though every fiber of his being.

And then it stopped. Zak crouched, panting heavily, his rattled brain slowly realizing what had happened.

The psi emitter had been activated.

Back down on Antiga Prime, the gates to hell had been opened.

Isha opened her eyes the next morning to see that Zak was gone.

She tried not to be bothered by the fact that he could and did leave without her knowing, and not be there when she woke up. But it was hard. She wanted to be with him all the time...

... which would be annoying to him. Was she just annoying him? If she was...

Disheartened, she swung her legs out from under the covers. There was some sort of _pinch_ in her mind, like someone was poking her... or pinching her... but it wasn't too annoying, and she could get over it quickly. It wasn't her Master... she knew what her Master's mind was like, and it wasn't like that, far from it.

"Zak?"

No answer. She sighed and got out of bed, rubbing her aching limbs. Yesterday was... odd, to say the least. Or was it yesterday? She couldn't remember.

Then it hit.

There was no warning. She lunged at the wall, screaming and snarling and smashing both fists against it. They shattered; she could feel her bones crunch... she lashed out at everything else, shredding the bed covers and mattress... she turned on herself, raking herself with her claws and tearing her flesh open even though her hands were crushed and there was blood everywhere—

"We're going after Tarsonis."

The men stared up at Raynor, their emotions ranging from surprise to excitement.

"Mengsk wants to hit 'em while they're still shaken from the Antigan rebellion. Duke is gonna lead the main strike team, while we'll be backing him up if things get to dicey."

Zak stood amongst the men, his machine-gray eyes focused on the man standing before him.

"This is the big one, boys—the final push. We knock out Tarsonis's defenses, the Confederacy's as good as gone. You all get ready to go; we launch in twenty-four hours."

James Raynor shifted his weight, then paused to rub his nose. He was nervous about something—no, upset... The psi emitter? The slaughter on Antiga? Zak couldn't tell, and respected the man enough not to go digging around in his head.

Zak's fists hurt. He glanced down at them—nothing seemed to be wrong...

His arms and legs were stinging. His chest burned.

_What the hell...?_

Blood! Blood everywhere! His knuckles were broken open, his limbs bruised and bleeding, his head...

The blood was gone. The pain vanished. He was standing amongst his fellow soldiers, preparing for—

Blood pain stinging burning want it need it want it WANT IT!!!

_Isha!_

He ran to the bunks. The walls were covered in blood. Isha was...

"Oh, hell... kid, what have you done to yourself?"

She could barely move. Her eyes were glazed over, and her chin was coated in froth. Her flesh was torn and bleeding...

She growled, pulling her ravaged body to its feet. Her thoughts were an unintelligeble mass of fear and pain and malice and desire...

"Isha, it's me," he said softly, approaching her slowly. "It's Zak."

She bared her teeth and hissed threateningly. _She doesn't recognize me... She doesn't even know who I am..._

"Don't do this, Isha. I can't stand to see you hurt." Zak reached out a hand, yanking it away just in time to avoid a slash of her claws.

"Dammit, Isha, you came so far... Please don't give up now..."

Isha was gone. The other entity had taken place, we could call it Hatred or Lust or Desire. It smiled, its lips curling back to reveal its teeth, and hissed again.

_Kill Zak._

It lunged, claws cutting at his skin. _Kill Zak!_

A stab of pain—a knife! BETRAYAL!

RAGE.

Broken thoughts—_no... don't kill Zak..._ then it was gone—

More HATE and BETRAYAL and WANT IT!

"Kid!" The voice came from far, far away; it was sobbing— "Isha, please, _please..._"

It pinned him. Smiled.

Then kissed him, its eyes full of madness.

_HolyfuckingSHIT!!!_

Of all the things the creature that used to be Isha could have done, this was the least expected. Zak could handle pain, he could handle taking a hit...

...But _this_...

This took things to a whole new level. Screw the drug; the beast had lost interest in that particular obsession. No, it had a whole new desire.

Him.

He pulled away, tasting blood. "You," he gasped, "you... aren't Isha, are you?"

It kissed him again, its tongue slipping into his mouth while its teeth bit his bottom lip, hard enough to draw even more blood. It pulled away a moment—"Isha?" it breathed, lips still curled back in its maniacal grin. "Why would you want _her?_ You have me, after all."

Its hands moved under his shirt, then tore back, ripping it off him completely, and started unbuckling his pants, all the while kissing and biting him.

"You have me."

He felt no pleasure. He was a Ghost. He had been trained not to feel. His mind ran cold, calculating, planning...

Suddenly, the creature was thrown to the ground, with Zak's hands wrapped firmly around its throat. He tightened his grip, perfectly willing to kill it, if he had to. He didn't want to hurt Isha, but that _thing_ wasn't Isha.

Isha could all ready be dead.

"Bring her back," he spat. "Bring her back, you little _bitch!_"

It choked, blood splattering his face as it writhed, trying desperately to breathe. It was genuinely confused. Why was he rejecting it? Every man wanted sex. _Every_ man wanted sex. Its—her—master and his cronies had taught it that. Sex was all men wanted… so why was _this_ man rejecting its body?

It clawed at his chest, and he shifted, pinning its ruined hands under his elbows so it couldn't do any more damage, and tightened his grip. Stars exploded before its eyes as it felt something begin to give under the strain—its windpipe slowly collapsed, not allowing any more air in.

Slowly the alter ego faded, pulling away in fear that it would die. Isha stared up at him, mouth open, begging, as she tried to breathe past her crushed windpipe and bucking against him weakly. _Zak… Zak… please…_

Through a haze of rage and panic, a small voice sounded. Someone was calling his name.

"... Isha?"

He looked down at her bleeding, gasping face. The madness had left her eyes. She was back.

And she was dying. He was crushing her throat—strangling her...

_What have I done?!_

His hands shot away from her neck and grasped her shoulders.

"Isha! Breathe!" he commanded. "Dammit, breathe!"

Her eyes were glazed with pain and panic. _Zak... I can't breathe..._

Her throat was a mangled mess; her Adam's apple indented wickedly into her windpipe. Her face turned blue and spittle ran down her chin as she gurgled pathetically, and blackness slowly crept through the edges of her vision.

She felt hands on her chest. There was a sudden pressure, twice, then her nose was pinched shut and a mouth covered hers. Air forced its way through her indented throat but—

—it wasn't enough—

Hands gripped her throat again, and she knew a moment of pure panic. Was he going to kill her after all? But no—there was a disgusting, wet _popping_ noise—and her throat suddenly expanded enough to allow air through. Isha closed her eyes, savoring sweet oxygen as Zak pinched her nose again to stop air from escaping and breathed into her.

She tried to talk, but found herself suddenly hugged tightly. _Zak, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..._

"You're okay, kid. Everything's okay." He held her tightly, both of them bleeding and breathing heavily. She was safe, they were safe, the monster was gone, everything was going to be okay...

_Ah, who the fuck am I kidding?_ His arms flopped to his sides, and he fell backwards, landing with a thud on the metal floor.

_Zak..._ Zak...

She was curled up on him, whimpering softly, trying to get him to respond. He didn't.

Isha didn't know how long she lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness, when suddenly she felt hands on her again, lifting her, turning her over.

She saw men and women in white, poking and prodding her, and Raynor's face swam in front of her eyes. _...Captain?..._

Then she closed her eyes.

"You know, you don't have to watch her every waking moment. You can leave if you—"

"No." Zak was perched on a stool, covered in bandages, the swelling in his lip finally beginning to go down.

"I was just saying—"

"Don't want to. Can't."

"But—"

"Fuck off."

The medical technician's jaw dropped. She stared at him for a while, shrugged, finished adjusting Isha's IV, then shuffled away.

Zak's cold, flat eyes followed her as she left. "Hmph. You'd better run, bitch..."

He turned his attention back to Isha. She was still asleep, every inch of her covered in bandages and medical equipment. The beeping of the machines and her steady stream of broken thoughts assured him that she was still alive.

He'd never let her out of his sight again. Ever. And if the beast inside her resurfaced... well, he'd just have to be there, give the damn thing what it wanted, and wait for it to go away again. Hell, at least that way it wouldn't be able to hurt her...

...Of course, he could always just kill her. End her pain. One little click, and she'd never be hurt again.

But then he'd have nothing. If Isha was gone, he'd be empty again, and go back to being the machine. The weapon.

_"You know what you are, boy?"_

_"Sir. I am a weapon, sir. My purpose is to kill."_

_"And whom do you serve?"_

_"The Confederacy, sir. Duty to the Confederacy is critical, all other objectives secondary."_

_"Good. This one's ready. Prepare a final assessment for Number 27."_

Zak ran his hand over Isha's forehead, brushing away the sweat and loose locks of hair.

_"I am a weapon. My purpose is to kill. I serve the Confederacy. All other goals are secondary."_

She drifted in and out for days. A week. She healed rapidly, more rapidly than any human, but her wounds were too severe and her frail body too weak to make it faster.

Finally her eyes opened to see an equally bandaged Zak still sitting on the stool, waiting. Glazed eyes moved across his body, then she remembered.

Zak felt her coming around, and felt a rush deep within his chest. She was okay! She'd pulled through! She...

Isha's eyes fluttered open. "Hi. I was a bad pet, wasn't I?"

Zak's elation was pulverized beneath a sudden, cold rage. His icy eyes narrowed to slits. "What the hell did you just say? I didn't just hear the p-word, did I?"

Isha blinked, confused. P-word? What p-word? Piss?

"I was," she whispered. "I was a bad pet. Are you going to punish me?"

_You are a very bad pet. Don't you think you should be punished?_

Zak raised an eyebrow. "Punish you? For what? _You_ didn't do anything. You just... never mind." He slid off the stool and paced around the room. Most of his sores were healed—except for his neck. What had she turned into then, a friggin' vampire? He rubbed it tenderly.

"I don't want to be here any more. Can I go home now?"

Zak sighed. _Poor kid..._ He sat back down on his stool. "As much as I agree with you, you can't. Not now, anyway. You've still gotta take it easy for a while, at least until you've healed enough to walk."

He put his hand on hers, careful not to put too much pressure on it—nearly all of her knuckles had been broken. "But I promise I'll stay with you until then, okay?"

She nodded, smiling shakily at him. "You won't go fighting, right?"

"Right."

"I'm glad you're okay."

He gave her a crooked grin, one she had come to adore. "Forget me, kid. You were in worse shape."

"I was?" she whispered, drowsiness taking over.

"Trust me, you were."

Isha was sleeping again. Her breathing was slow and even, her chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm.

Zak stared at her for the longest time, wondering if he'd ever get the chance to see her free of fresh wounds and new scars. She looked terrible.

But at least she was sleeping again. Safe.

She'd been practically comatose for a week. While she slept, the battle for the Tarsonian strongholds had raged on. Zak was only dimly aware of the present situation, and he didn't really care. Damn the Confederates. Damn Mengsk. They were nothing compared to her.

He'd failed her. She'd nearly destroyed herself and he hadn't been there. And when he finally came, what did he do for her? He'd damn well almost _killed_ her...

"I swear, kid," he whispered, "I'll never let anything hurt you again." He bent over her sleeping form and kissed her bruised cheek.

Down on Tarsonis, The Sons of Korhal were preparing for the final blow. The psi emitter was in place. In a matter of days, billions of people would be thrown to the fury of the Zerg.

However, the Protoss war fleet had other plans.


	3. Chapter 3

_Time for some fun, my little pet..._

Isha's eyes shot open, heart pounding. Biting her lip, she struggled to sit up and looked down at herself, surprised, when she realized that she was practically completely healed.

"Zak?"

He was across the room, again sitting in that stool of his. Isha opened and closed her fists, surprised that she could move them. Well. At least she could pick things up now.

"How long have I been out?" she asked, then let out a slight grin. "Rather, how long have you been sitting there, and you must be _tired_..." she paused, glancing down at her hands again, then added, sheepish, "Um... do you have food? I'm _starving._"

"Yeah. Food." He left his post atop the stool and shifted through the contents of a cluttered table. "Oh. Here we go. Some delicious, nutritious, freeze-dried tube food." He flipped it over in his hands. "Beef flavor. A bonus." He unscrewed the cap and handed it to Isha.

"I'm warning you, this stuff tastes like processed shit. It's all they've got on this boat, so enjoy." He hopped back on his stool, his steel gray eyes once again focused on Isha.

She devoured the tube in less than a minute, then looked around for more. Zak handed her one; she blushed and took it. "Thanks.

"What's going on?"

"Haven't been paying attention much. Frankly, I don't care who's in power or who's winning what, but I think it getting pretty wild down on Tarsonis." He noticed Isha's blank look. "Central world of the Confederacy."

"Oh." She sucked on the tube, noticed it was empty, and looked up at Zak sheepishly.

"Still hungry, huh? Damn, you've gotta be the only person in the sector that can eat more than one of these things without puking." He picked up another—he'd stockpiled them for fear of leaving Isha's side—and handed it to her. "Spagetti flavor. Never had real spaghetti, so don't ask me how it's supposed to taste."

Isha snatched it and devoured it eagerly. Damn, she could probably eat the _container_...

"When you're done with that, we can go find out what's going on if you want to. Like I said, I haven't been paying much attention."

Isha shrugged. "I learned to eat what I could..." she didn't say any more; Zak probably understood. "And I'll come with you."

Before he could protest Isha swung her legs over the side of the bed, leapt lightly to her feet—and abruptly fell over, too weak to stand. "Khas _damn_ it," she growled, uttering an oath she had heard her Master snarl a few times.

In an instant, Zak was at her side, scooping her up off the floor. "Whoa, watch it! Here, lean on me, okay?"

Isha stumbled over herself again, narrowly saved from falling. "Okay."

"Ready to try walking?" He didn't need for her to answer; she was predictably determined. He held her up as she leaned into him, and, after a few false starts, they managed to formulate a method of motion that slightly resembled walking.

He guided her down the long, narrow hallways of the _Hyperion,_ pointing out various interesting features as they proceeded.

They arrived at the bridge to find an infuriated Raynor bellowing at a screen. On it, Mengsk's face was calm and determined.

"First you screw over everyone on the planet to the Zerg, and now you're gonna go after the Protoss! _And_ you're gonna send Kerrigan in there with no _backup_?!"

Mengsk's voice came through the screen, cool and level. _"I have full confidence in the Lieutenant's ability to handle things..."_

Mengsk's eyes moved to Isha, and she cringed back against Zak, who shifted protectively. But he turned back to the furious Raynor, and within minutes the screen clicked off.

Raynor was breathing heavily, hands clenched. He turned to find them there, and wiped sweat off his brow. "Hey. Gimme a minute, will ya?" He turned back around and spoke sharply into the comm, to his friend the Magistrate—a man Isha had never met before, and didn't really care about either.

"Okay," Raynor said, turning to them. "27... er, Zak, I need to speak with you. Privately."

Isha clutched him fearfully, but Raynor shook his head. "Don't worry, it's just around the corner. You can sit here, if you like—you look like you need it." Gently Raynor pried her away from Zak and sat her in his Captain's chair, patted her shoulder, and walked away. Zak hesitated, then squeezed her hand gently and followed.

Isha strained to hear. "...dangerous? I don't want her attacking any of my crew, Zak. She's not even _human..._"

"_I'm_ not fucking human, okay?!" Zak slammed a fist down on a console, cringing slightly from the impact. "I don't give a flying shit whether you trust her or not! You don't touch her! _No one_ touches her!"

"Zak, will you _listen_ to me?! She damn well near _killed_ herself, and look what she did to you! I can't let her run around like that—what if she snaps and—"

"I have it under _control!_"

"Hey, buddy—"

"Shut up!" Zak pulled back a fist, hesitated, then dropped his arm to his side. "I... It's under control..."

Raynor exhaled. "Okay, you get _one_ chance. Any shit outta either of you and you're both outta here. Got it?"

Zak glared at the floor, fists still clenched. "Yes, sir."

"One chance," Raynor said over his shoulder as he turned to leave. He left the bridge, leaving Zak seething.

Zak was startled by his own rage. He'd never been so angry in his life. He shook the remnants of the powerful emotion off. Whatever.

Deep within his mind, a switch had flipped.

Isha is number one priority. All other objectives secondary. My purpose is to protect.

Isha was still curled up in the Captain's chair when he came back, eyes wide. She had heard the whole thing, and it had scared her shitless.

"Zak?" she whimpered, clutching his hand when he came near. "They... they're not gonna take me away from you, are they?"

He drew her in close, embracing her fragile, precious form. "Nothing is ever gonna take you away from me. I promise."

Three weeks later Isha trotted through the hallways, humming softly. She knew Zak hated her to be out alone, but his assignment to her _was_ to find a way to sneak away from him somehow, so... she had. And she was savoring the moment of triumph. So, in short, she had sneaked away while he was taking a shower. He had probably figured it out by now, but hey...

"Hey, sweetie!"

Isha blinked and looked around. An off-duty Marine was leaning against a door frame, grinning as he slid his gaze up and down her form. "Uh... yes?"

"You've put on some weight, sweetie. You've got some _curves,_ now!" He sauntered forward, circling her and gazing up and down appreciatively. "Lookin good, sweetie. Time was you was just bones."

She took a quick step back as his eyes roved over her. "Some muscle, too. Mm, lookin good."

Startled, she looked down at herself. It was true. She had gained a ton of upper body strength, along with some fat to smooth out her muscles. "Um... thank you... I, er, gotta go..."

"Heyyyy, where you goin, sweetie?" He grabbed her arm, grinning. "C'mon, you look like you've never been laid before."

"Mind telling me what you're doing with your hands on my girl?" Zak stood at the end of the hallway, dabbing his wet hair with a towel. He leaned casually to one side, his words calm and nonchalant. His eyes, however, were locked on the soldier, broadcasting an overwhelmingly clear message: _I will kill you._

The man was frightened by him. Then again, he was stupid. "_Your_ girl? Heh, what, is your name on her?"

The Ghost's priorities clicked, redirecting themselves at the soldier. You are a threat to Isha. You must be neutralized.

Zak smirked. "So desperate for action, you are dumb enough to piss me off." He turned to Isha. "You pass. I didn't realize you'd left for a whole two minutes. Anyway..." He jerked his head in the Marine's direction. "Should I take him down for you, or would you rather show him what I've taught you?"

"Yeah. Take me down." The Marine smirked, his hand tightening on Isha's arm. She paled, freezing up, trying to jerk away from him.

_He bent her backwards over the bed, his eyes alight with cruelty. His voice was a brush upon her mind as he rubbed up against her, the bulk of his flesh resting between her legs..._

"I—I—" she couldn't remember a thing, and hated herself for it. The Marine pulled her closer, his other hand circling her hip.

"I'd _love_ for you to take me down, sweetie..."

_Come now; is that the way to treat your Master?_

Her eyes pleaded with Zak. _Help..._

The soldier found it very difficult to torment Isha any further, for Zak's boot had been firmly implanted in his face. He crumpled to the ground.

He had _touched_ her! Touched her and made the memories come back again! How _dare_ he!

Zak stared coolly down at the Marine. "Still feeling horny, buddy? We can fix that."

Zak's foot once again forcefully made contact with the man, but now in an entirely different location. The man's voice shot up an estimated four octaves.

_"Oh, sweet Jesus! Fuck! Aah! Christ!"_

Zak ignored his cries of agony, his attention focused on Isha. He put a hand on her shoulder, his consciousness attempting to force Isha's terrible memories back. Away.

"Isha, it's okay. No one is going to hurt you. If anyone ever bothers you again, you kick 'em in the nuts, got it?"

She smiled shakily. "Okay." She stared at the ground as Zak tugged her away, heading back to their quarters. "I...I'm sorry," she finally burst out as they stepped back in. "I—I couldn't remember _anything,_ I wanted to make you proud but I j-just couldn't _remember..._"

Zak patted her head. "Hey, relax, kid! I've never asked you to apply your lessons to anything, and your fighting environment has never been outside what we've been doing. How could I have expected you to know what to do right away? It's just something we need to work on, that's all."

He attempted to sit down on the bunk, but the small space forced him to settle for an odd, contorted squat. "Besides, you've already made me proud. Look at how far you've come."

_Look at how far _I've_ come,_ he added privately. He'd been training himself, too. He'd finally refined himself to the point where he had an almost constant with Isha. He could communicate telepathically—for a short time, anyway—and was getting better and better at blocking Isha's memories.

A lot of things had changed in three weeks. The Confederacy had fallen, Raynor and his boys (Zak included) had ditched Mengsk, and Isha hadn't gone crazy.

Three weeks. A new record. Maybe he had saved her after all. Zak doubted it, but he never gave up hope. One day, he would free her.

She had indeed changed in three weeks. For one, her wounds had healed, the only traces of the incident were a few fine scars along her knuckles. She had gotten stronger; her bones no longer stuck out at odd angles. Her eyes were less sunken in. Her hair had transformed from a scraggly mass to a dark, silky sheet. Her nails, to her request, had stayed long and sharp. Her skin, although still oddly textured in places, had an added color to it.

The beaten, helpless child he had found unconscious amongst the rocks had been replaced by a woman, beautiful in her own right.

_I should really stop calling her "kid..."_

"Thanks, Zak."

She smiled and sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her savior.

Isha had hoped that they would take a ship and go somewhere, anywhere, away from the fighting and death, but Zak had told her gently that there was no way they could do that... unless the war ended, and it didn't seem like it would end any time soon.

She sighed, snuggling against him. She hadn't been able to do anything else like that day on Antiga Prime, though she had tried so hard her head hurt. Maybe she just needed to be in the right circumstances.

Isha bit her lip as she looked at him, thinking. She really did love him. She hadn't understood before, but now... she didn't _just_ love him, she knew now that she had fallen _in love_ with him.

"Zak?"

He looked at her. She took a deep breath, and leaned up, pressing her lips lightly to his.

Zak's first impulse was to pull away.

_Let her,_ he told himself. _She wants to, so let her._

He was a Ghost. Ghosts didn't feel.

Bullshit. _Isha_ felt, and he could feel what she felt.

And she had made him human again. He could get angry, he could cry, he could smile, laugh, whatever. All those things he could never do before. He needed her as much as she needed him.

She withdrew slowly, her crystal blue eyes gazing into his.

She _was_ beautiful. Inhumanly beautiful. Her features were undeniably unlike any other person Zak had ever known. Maybe Zak hadn't met too many people. Maybe she had been born a beauty. Maybe that damn drug had done something to her.

Zak's lips tugged into a lopsided grin. "You kind of surprised me there. Can we try that again?"

And _his_ lips were against _hers._

Isha melted completely, shivering in the sudden heat. She had never felt like _this_ before... in all the agony of being with her Master, in all the joy in being with Zak, she had never felt this before. _Zak..._

Suddenly they were lying down on the cot, and his rough, calloused hands were under her shirt, rubbing lightly along her equally rough back. She had no idea how they had gotten there.

And she didn't really care. All that mattered was Zak.

Again she kissed him as he leaned back, bringing her with him. "Zak," she breathed against his lips, and she would have said more if he hadn't covered her mouth with his again.

"I…" she pulled away slightly, staring down at him. "I don't know h...how..."

He shook his head, bringing her back down. "We'll figure it out together."

"Okay."

What was happening, Zak didn't quite understand. It got to the point where he couldn't tell where he ended and Isha began.

Did it matter?

His past was dead, and hers was laid to rest beside it. Gone was the weapon. Gone was the monster.

_Here_ was their purpose. _Here_ could they truly become one. In a sense, they did. Zak could feel every bit of Isha's pleasure, only magnifying his own. Everything was warm, beautiful, perfect, right...

Part of him registered that both of them were naked. Not that it mattered—their eyes were closed most of the time, and if either of looked, they wouldn't see much except the other's face. Their hands were sliding over each other, their lips only leaving each other's skin to breathe...

As for the rest of them, it was a matter of biology.

All too soon it was over. He glanced over at her, running a hand through her hair.

"You're beautiful, Isha," he whispered.

"And you're roguishly handsome," she replied without hesitation, grinning at him tiredly. He grinned back, and their lips locked for a moment again.

She pulled away and stretched her legs, cursing the bunk soundly for being so small, and settled on his chest again. She had never felt so much pleasure in her life... it had almost overrode her senses, and burned away all thought. What was left was a feeling of such peace, such contentment that it was hard to break through.

"Heh." Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. "If only Master could see me now... he'd probably be jealous."

"Don't think about him," Zak murmured, kissing each of her eyes, and she obeyed.

"Thought you couldn't feel pleasure," she whispered, lying her head down on him. "That's what you kept telling _me_, anyway."

"Guess I was wrong." He leaned back, drinking in the warmth around him.

"Wait a minute, I don't think I ever _told_ you that..."

Isha grinned mischievously. "Good night, Zak."

"Hey, you just hold on a sec..." he began, but she had already fallen asleep.

"That's cheating," he grumbled. Then, making sure she was truly sleeping, followed suit.

Isha woke first.

For a long moment she just lay there, savoring the perfection that they lay settled in, then reached over and poked him gently with a claw. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

Zak lifted his head lazily, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was now awake.

"Nnn... whuh?" His eyes, being the brilliant little machines that they were, immediately came into focus. He squinted, trying to lessen the impact of their sudden, sharp input.

She was still there, smiling at him. Beautiful.

"Oh. Hey. Did I miss anything?"

"Of course not," she said softly, and kissed him lightly.

It was a perfect moment; one that he wished would last forever.

Of course, it is such moments that are most predictably shattered.

The door opened with a hydraulic whoosh. "Eh, Ghostie, chu—oh. Uh-oh."

_Oh, please, no, not him. Anyone but him..._

Isha squeaked, attempting to hide from the sudden intruder. Zak began to sit up, wondering how the boy could possibly still be alive.

"I am seriously going to ki—oof!" Zak's forehead thumped against the side of the bunk. "Ah! Damn!" He put a hand over the rapidly forming bruise.

Isha jumped at his injury. "Zak! Are you—"

"Fine, just friggin' fine!" He stood up and began walking towards the boy, looking as menacing as one in the buff possibly could.

The boy's eyes popped. "Uh… ah... Ah!" The door slammed, leaving Zak's fist to bounce off it with a sharp clang.

"Open the fucking _door,_ you coward!"

"Chu'r gonna kill me!" the boy's muffled voice cried from the other side. "Chu'r gonna up n' _kill_ me!"

"Open the door!"

"Chu'r crazy! Chu'r gonna kill me!"

"Damn right I am!"

"Sheeyit, Ghostie, I didn't mean nothin'!"

"What the hell do you _want?!_"

"Uh... The ship! The ship's gonna go planetside! Char! We're gonna start goin' down soon! Cap'n thought chu wanted ta know!"

Zak leaned with his back against the door. "That's all?"

"Yeah! I swear it, eh?"

"Just get out of here. Next time, knock. Or else."

The boy's shoes could be heard squeaking rapidly down the hallway.

Zak sighed. _Idiot._ "Isha, you okay?"

"Uh... yeah." She came out from hiding in the bunk.

"Could you help me find my pants?"

She burst out laughing. "You look so _funny_!"

"What?"

She laughed all the harder, got up, crossed the room, and hugged him tightly. "Only you. Only _you_ can terrify a person completely naked."

"Well—"

She drew his head down and kissed him again, drawing him back to the bed. "They can wait, can't they?"

He looked down at her, her crystal eyes too beautiful to resist. "Yeah... Yeah, they can wait..."

She was, after all, more important than them. They were on the bunk again, kissing and touching and...

Zak held a hand up to stop another kiss. "Isha... don't you think we should..."

She cocked her head. "Should what, Zak?"

_Slow down,_ he wanted to say. _Slow down before we're in too deep._

Then again, they'd already gone as far as they could, hadn't they? He sighed, giving in to ecstasy and desire. "Forget it." His hand moved across her cheek and through her silky hair, and their lips met once again, just as wonderfully perfect as always.

After all, one more time couldn't hurt...

The ship shuddered just as they were relaxing, and Isha jumped. "Sheesh," she muttered, snuggling against Zak, annoyed. "Don't they know we're tryin' to have _sex_ here?"

_That_ startled a laugh out of him, and they lay there for a moment, chuckling. Zak gently detangled himself from her embrace with a last kiss, and she clutched at him when he went to slip out of the cot. "We gotta go, Isha. C'mon, I'll get your clothes."

She sighed and stretched again. "Don't wanna."

"I know." He tossed a shirt to her, hunting for his suit.

Isha found it, folded it neatly when he wasn't looking, and sat on it innocently, tugging her shirt on.

Zak dug through his bag, his clothes, the whole damn _bunk room..._ His suit was nowhere to be found.

He turned to Isha, noticing the lump of black fabric beneath her. He smiled half-heartedly, rolling his eyes. "Oh. Funny. Give it."

"Nah." Isha tucked it under her shirt, pulled on a pair of pants, and dashed out of their quarters.

"Hey, get back here!" He found a pair of pants amidst the rubble, attempted to put them on while the ship suddenly bucked, and bolted after her.

"Isha! Isha, come back! I..." He skidded to a halt, staring straight at a group of Marines in full armor.

"What's your problem, boy?" one barked, shoving him aside. Zak was too stunned to pick a fight. "You'd better move it—we've got _Zerg_ down there!" They tromped off, prepping their weapons as they marched.

The ship bucked again, and Zak felt the creeping presence on the edge of his mind...

_KILL... KILL... KILL..._

The _Hyperion_ was landing in the midst of a battle.

"Dammit," Zak growled, then sprinted down the hallway, his mind searching, searching...

_Isha, where are you? Please!_

He had to find her. She was in danger.

Isha squeezed back underneath the console, heart pounding. Something... something was wrong, in the back of her mind, she could feel some sort of _pulsing_, throbbing to the beat of her rushing blood.

_Zak... Zak, where are you?_

No answer.

Then, a noise—

_Scrape... scrape... scrape..._

Terrified, she yanked herself out from under the console and fled from the sounds, the smooth black cloth still bunched under her shirt. The first time she had horsed around with _anyone_, and she had gotten in trouble.

_SCRAPE… SCRAPE… SCRAPE…_

The ship bucked, throwing her off her feet. She cried out, dropping Zak's suit and bashing her head against the wall. Seeing stars, she staggered to her feet and bolted down the corridor, not even knowing where she was going... or that she had left Zak's suit on the floor.

There was sudden weightlessness, then—

_WHAM._

They had landed, all right.

Isha found herself flung forward once again, and skidded to a halt in dirt.

Somehow, in some way, she found herself on the dirty, barren wasteland of Char.

He bolted down the long, metal corridors, searching, searching...

Sirens were going off all around him. People rushed about in organized panic. Everything seemed to be shaking, throbbing with the pulse of the Zerg...

KILL. KILL. KILL!!

Something ahead of him caught his eye--a lump of slick, black fabric.

_Isha!_ He scooped it up, extending his mind once again. He couldn't feel her. He couldn't _feel_ her!

He began to sprint again, forcing himself to calm down, allowing his training to take over. Either she was unconscious, dead, or not aboard the ship. All three possibilities posed a problem. He made a quick detour back to the bunks, and bolted back out while still putting on his gear.

Isha was his number one priority. The helmet went over his head, readouts springing to life before his eyes.

He needed to find her. To protect her.

Beneath the calm mind of the machine, he seethed with rage. She was a liability. She had nearly killed him more than once, continuously got herself in danger...

And had made him feel. Loved him.

Made him _weak._

She had dulled his senses, clouded his mind, made him too weak and oblivious to protect her.

Why protect her, then?

He _needed_ her.

For what? Sensual pleasure? He was a Ghost. Ghosts don't feel.

Well, he'd disproved _that_ theory.

No, it was not that he _couldn't_ feel. He couldn't _afford_ to feel.

He couldn't afford to be weak. Weakness meant he couldn't protect her.

But they had both wanted it, enjoyed it...

The weapon arose again, clearing his thoughts. _See how much you enjoy it when she's dead._

Dashing for the air locks, stepping out into the rock and smog, he felt the first pangs of her presence. She was near.

Reflexively, he drew his rifle and cloaked. He wove through the massing forces, dodging expertly between the armored hulk around him.

The Zerg were close, too. So close, the pulse became painful.

He saw her. "Isha," he barked as he reappeared.

She looked up, her tear-streaked face twisted in fear and despair. "Zak..." she ran towards him, threw her arms around him...

"Zak, I'm so sorry, please—"

"Shut up. Don't touch me."

She drew back, her eyes wide with painful confusion.

"Zak..."

The weapon could feel her pain. The weapon didn't care.

"What you did was stupid. Don't do it again." He pushed her aside, his attention focused on the hell approaching from within the ravine.

The Zerg had arrived.

Zak cocked his rifle and began to fire.

Isha staggered back with the force of the emotional blow. Beside her, Zak was firing, attacking the monstrous swarm of savage creatures, but she didn't see them.

He had rejected her.

Pain she hadn't known existed rose within her. She had been through torture; she had been through the most humiliating and crippling experiences both mentally and physically; but _this..._

This was the most horrible sensation; one she hadn't felt since she was four years old, watching her father kill her mother then commit suicide. Horror and the most bitter, bitter betrayal.

He had _rejected_ her.

Numbly she heard him snarl at her, the voice scrambler grating the words on her ears, to "take it." Isha looked down and saw he was pressing a gun into her hand. Equally as numbly she hefted it, cocked it, and aimed it at the onrushing monsters, firing again and again, following Zak's lead.

But they had made _love..._

Seeing an opening in the crowd of yelling, screaming, blazing guns and Marines and Firebats, she ducked through it, running and running and running. Either the Zerg didn't see her or the Zerg didn't care; not a creature came charging after her.

She ran until the sounds of battle faded; she ran until her legs gave way and cramps shot needles of pain through her muscles; she fell to the ground, sobbing.

He didn't love her.

_Of course not,_ an inner voice hissed. _All men want sex. That's all they want... he waited until you gave into him and took you, then threw you away._

But he _loved_ her!

_It was all a game to him, Isha. He wanted to see if you would give in, and how long it would take him._

No...

_That nonsense about protecting you, loving you? It was a lie... my pet._

They were everywhere. And endless wave of monsters seemed to spew forth from the pits of hell. Men were going down all around him, being torn to shreds by beasts too terrible to describe.

Zak tapped his belt, melting from view. He fired and fired and fired, taking down one after another, but it didn't matter.

Above him, the sky was darkening. A terrible roar of a thousand screaming, inhuman voices rose above the sounds of battle. The swarm was so thick it blocked out the sun.

Zak pulled the trigger again, and the gun clicked with a jerk. Out of ammo.

_Damn,_ he mentally hissed while jamming another clip home. He didn't have enough. There were too many of them.

And then they came straight for him.

They couldn't see him, but they could smell him. _Feel_ him. His telepathically gifted mind was like a beacon.

A beast the size of a very large dog leapt for him, its impossibly long claws ready to tear him apart. He shot it before it could attack, but it wasn't the only one interested.

He cried out as his leg was sliced open. He turned his gun to the monster responsible, then another, then another...

There was no way he could keep up. Either he would run or die.

Dead men couldn't protect anyone. He leapt into the air, flipping aerobatically over the many creatures surrounding him. He hit the ground, the impact sending a bolt of pain up his injured leg.

The leg wasn't the only thing wrong.

Isha had vanished.

"No," he breathed, running off in a direction he hoped he'd find her in. His leg had gone numb and was still gushing blood.

He would not fail her again.

The ground began to slope upwards. He leaned against his rifle, no longer able to support his own weight.

The rock beneath him, the air above him, all was ungodly hot and rancid. The very gasses and particles swirling before him must have been doing hell on Isha's lungs...

He would find her. He had to. Straining himself, he thought he could almost feel her presence...

_Dammit, Isha, I told you not to run again..._

He collapsed, tearing his arms on the sharp lava rock.

"But... he loves me..."

_He threw you away. Did you truly think he had actually fallen in love with you, my little pet?_

She let out a choked sob.

_He betrayed you._

No...

Hands slid over her shoulders, settling on her stomach and pulling her close. Then they went under her shirt, claws lightly pricking her skin and traveling up to her breasts, claws spearing one of them so that she felt warm blood soak her front. _He made you get off the drug so it would not interfere with his plans..._

Leave me alone, go away, leave me alone...

_I am not here._

Startled, she looked around.

Her breast was healed. Everything was as it should be. It was like he was never there.

His voice brushed across her mind one last time. _I will never throw you away. You can always know I will take what you can give..._

Isha bowed her head, squeezing her eyes shut and willing her heart to slow.

When she opened them, she realized she was lost.

He was helpless. He had lost too much blood, couldn't get up, couldn't see straight...

Tourniquet! Need a tourniquet! But what? Where? He grasped his leg pathetically, applying as much pressure as his weakened body possibly could...

Useless. He was going to die. He had failed.

Stay conscious! Don't black out! Don't...

"Aw, hell..."

He focused all his thoughts, his pain, his being—everything went out in a desperate psychic cry.

_Isha, dammit, _help_ me!_

He hit the ground again, his breath rasping and shallow. Some protector. Here he was, dying and calling out to Isha for help. It should have been the other way around.

The mental shout had taken a lot out of his rapidly dwindling stamina. Hell, he didn't even know if it had _worked,_ much less if she was still _alive_...

He pushed himself up, fighting the overwhelming fatigue that was drowning him. He had to keep going forward. He couldn't give up. Especially now, when he needed every bit of concentration to prevent himself from falling over. He knew he wouldn't be able to get back up again.

Isha is my primary objective. All other goals are secondary. My purpose is to protect.

_Isha, dammit, help me!_

Her head jerked up. _Zak...?_

He was out there, somewhere... dying...

Why should she care? He didn't love her.

She turned away. Part of her—the part that fought with her very being—to go help him.

The other part resisted.

_He only wanted sex. He's just like Master._

Besides, she was lost...

_"Everybody, get your asses outta there! We're pullin' out! Everybody!"_

Zak continued to drag his broken form across the rocky terrain. _Heh. A little late..._

One shaking finger managed to tap the side of his helmet.

"Get... you guys... send pickup..."

_"What? Pickup? Who is this?"_

"Twenty... twenty seven... Zak... Need pick—ugh—pickup."

_"We'll try, buddy, but I don't think—"_

"Sss... send... fucking... _pickup!_" Zak gasped from the effort. He wouldn't make it. It was over. He was dead and Isha was gone.

No, she was just ahead! He was sure of it! She _had_ to be!

Just a few more inches, and she'd be in sight! Just a few more damn inches!

He was numb everywhere, his body finally giving up. He only pushed harder, feeling his heart grow weaker. He was still bleeding.

His brain could barely comprehend what his eyes were showing him. The rocks and smoke blended together, his own gloved hands were formless black blobs smattered with red.

Something ahead... small... Isha?

It _had_ to be her! He didn't drag his dying ass all the way out for nothing!

"Isha," he croaked, his shaking, bloodied arms unable to pull him any further.

The mirage-like appearance moved.

"Isha... told you... not to run..." He coughed, shuddered, and fell on his side, the last of his strength evaporating in the volcanic heat.

_Don't black out, don't black out..._

He was done. Darkness pulled him under. It was over.

Isha sat, huddled against the burning wind, turning her face away from the stinging sand. She pressed closer to the cliff wall, whimpering softly, tears running down her cheeks.

_He's gone, I'm alone, he doesn't love me, everything... everything is lost. Nothing matters._

She should just die here.

_Nothing matters._

A low hum filled the air, and she looked up, surprised. Through the waves of heat and smoke, a gleaming golden craft was descending.

Xan'Iir stepped out from the craft into the burning heat of the planet's surface. Two warriors followed her, wearing full armor. Although they towered above her, it was obvious who was in charge.

She stood proudly against the burning wind, her ornate, golden armor glistening in the harsh sun. Her luminescent, violet eyes cut through the swirling ash. She extended her mind outwards, searching, analyzing...

_Scout the area,_ she barked. The warriors obeyed, their leg enhancers adding a powerful spring to their step.

She had heard a cry for help. From what, she did not understand, but she was certain of the point of origin.

Here.

_High Templar,_ the voice of her comrade sounded, _I have located a Terran. Its uniform is... unfamiliar._

_The Executor's orders are to avoid engagement. Leave it._

_High Templar... I feel weak psychic energies emanating from it._

Xan'Iir cocked her head in though. _Odd. Such Terrans are nearly unheard of. Be wary, brother._

_I believe it is dying._

_Dying?_ The Templar's brows knitted in thought. What strange circumstances... It would be best to leave the Terran where it lie, but...

Could it be possible that the Terran was responsible for the call she had felt? She had originally believed it to be one of her own, but if it was psychic...

If they could heal it, revive it, _study_ it... The opportunity was too great to miss. Who knew what secrets this Terran warrior held?

_Bring it back to the shuttle. Keep it alive, if you can. This Terran may be of use to our cause._

She reached out her mind to the other scout. _Brother, have you located anything?_

_High Templar, there is nothing._

_Then return at once._

_Immediately, High Templar... wait..._

_What is it?_

_Terran civilian. It seems to be... by the gods!_

Xan'Iir jumped, surprised at the warrior's sudden shock. _Brother, what have you—_

Her comrade's thoughts were filled with horror. _It is... an abomination!_

Athict's glowing blue orbs flashed as he sent a mental image to his High Templar, taking in the Terran's heavily clawed hands, and textured, pale skin. _High Templar... what do I do with such a... a thing?_

The _thing_ stirred, and Athict took a wary step back. Its mind was _different_ somehow, as well...

_By the gods,_ he repeated, to himself. He could feel the High Templar thinking, could feel her shock.

The Terran... or what was supposed to be a Terran moved again. Athict took another step back, when the thing lifted its head, stared at him directly with glowing, crystalline blue eyes—

And screamed.

Xan'Iir's legs buckled, her blazing amethyst eyes wide with horror and disgust. The image of the creature was still fresh in her mind—its body a twisted mockery of the blessed form the gods had fashioned. It was a sin for it to be alive.

She wanted it dead, gone, eliminated!

She shuddered, shaking her thoughts into order. Be it an abomination or no, nothing of its kind had ever been seen before. Could it be some sort of Terran experiment? How dare they toy with the blood of the First Born! She'd personally see to their deaths, show them the might that they had mocked…

She shook herself again, regaining control of her emotions. She touched the warrior's mind again. _Subdue it. Bring it to me. I want to find out where it came from._

_High Templar, it—_

_Bring the creature to me, warrior! Those responsible for its creation must not go unpunished!_

Athict stepped forward slowly, trying not to startle the creature. It had stopped screaming and was now curled up in a small ball cowering away from him, sobbing with terror. _...Terran?_

"Get away!" It cried, in a voice that was undoubtedly female. "Get _away_ from me, you won't bring me back I won't let you, you _won't_ bring me back..."

Hesitantly he reached out a hand—and jerked it back, for the creature had lashed out with its sharpened claws, scraping the smooth scales on his knuckles. _Stop that!_

"Get away!"

_Pain and torture and rape..._

He reeled back, sent a tentative question to Xan'Iir, got a sharp retort in response, and stepped forward again. This time, he moved as fast as he could, and before Isha knew it she was pinned to his chest, practically flying across the ground as he ran. "No! No!"

_As you commanded, High Templar,_ he said as he dragged her up to the proud Xan'Iir. The abomination had grown finally quiet, though was breathing in short, gasping sobs.

He glanced down at it, thrusting it out for his commanding officer's scrutiny. _It... it feels fear, High Templar. Fear and despair and pain._

Xan'Iir shot a look of disgust at the pathetic creature at her feet, irritated at the small, gasping noises it made. She should just kill it, kill it now…

And then their minds touched. The proud Protoss female was dragged into a swirling, black nightmare. There was pain, torture, betrayal, terror, blood, blood everywhere…

She forced herself to withdraw, clutching her head. The horrific visions faded, but the creature was still there… pathetic, abandoned, abused in so many ways…

_By Adun,_ she said shakily, her hard face softened with pity.

The ultimate sins had been committed against the creature. Murder. Rape. Xan'Iir had born a child of her own, and could barely comprehend the hell that this poor thing had gone through. A righteous fury began to burn deep within her. Those responsible would _pay!_

_Ready the shuttle. I need to speak with the Executor._

The warrior nodded, then leapt back into the ship. Xan'Iir called out to the other, demanding that he return immediately. He soon appeared amongst the jagged rocks, a black-clad Terran slung over his shoulder. She shot him a glare, and he boarded the shuttle, taking his luggage with him.

She glanced back down at the thing at her feet, her usually forceful manner replaced by a gentle, motherly air. _Do not fear me, little one. I shall do you no harm._

Isha curled up further upon hearing her voice, believing that it would cause her pain as her Master's had torn her mind; she paid no attention to the words uttered.

But when no pain came, she peeked up at the towering alien, clothed in gold armor and elaborate robes, staring at her glowing eyes with her own odd ones. _Then_ she realized what was said.

"You... won't?"

The alien crouched suddenly in one graceful movement and Isha jumped and cried out, curling into a ball. Her arms went up to protect her throat and head; her legs drew to her chest to protect her stomach in an automatic gesture of submission; as she would usually when her Master got into a particularly violent mood. "No! Don't—"

_I will not harm you,_ the Protoss repeated gently.

"Then leave me alone, go away and leave me alone, please, just... go..."

The strange sounds the creature made had no meaning. However, its thoughts were understandable enough.

_Go away and leave me alone, please, just… go…_

Xan'Iir's words were calm and gentle, yet firm and definite. _That I cannot do. Great sins have been committed against you, child. I must see that they do not go unpunished. Such is my duty as a Templar._

The wretched little thing peeked up through the long fur atop its head. It made a small sound. It was still very much afraid, but now also confused. What it knew of the Protoss was only the torture that had so cruelly been forced upon it; how could one be offering it mercy?

Xan'Iir could still barely understand the terrible visions that swam beneath its mind. How could any of the First Born—even a Dark Templar—commit such a terrible crime? He had abused a sacred ritual, turning the creation of life into a twisted form of pleasure. Not only that, but it had been to a _Terran._ An impure, disgusting creature just marginally self-aware…

And it was only a _child…_

Xan'Iir extended a graceful, long-nailed hand. She was not willing to touch it—the thought of doing so made her skin crawl—but the gesture should be reassuring enough. _I am not like your master, child. He is a criminal, a traitor to his people. What he did was unforgivable. Come with me, and justice shall be restored._

No. _No._ She would _not_ go with the alien. No matter how much it reassured her, no matter how gentle it seemed, she would not—would _not_—go with her; not on that ship, not in _their_ clutches...

Before she knew it she was running, bounding over the rocks and ash in a desperate dash to get away. Her ability to practically fly over jutting stone as easily as springy grass was a gift the drug had given her, along with her ability to notice things and all the others.

Of course, she was no match for a Protoss.

_Blasted little monster,_ Xan'Iir hissed, and in a few quick bounds caught up with the strange Terran. She entangled it in her long, sinuous arms, banishing the creature's thoughts from her mind and putting up with her own utter revulsion.

She shed her gentle façade, her duty taking priority over her pity. _You are a fool, Terran! Do you not understand our cause? Your so-called master and his cronies are our enemies, as much so as the Zerg, and you are the key to his defeat! Originally, I planned on keeping you unharmed, but if I must give our scientists a _cadaver_ for study, then so be it!_

The creature responded with a bite to the arm. Xan'Iir flinched slightly, enough for it to slip from her grasp. It began to run again, but the High Templar grabbed it by the back of its clothing. She called up the power within her mind, using her own energies to freeze the Terran's limbs. _Listen to me, Terran,_ she said as gently as her rage would allow, _you will not run. You will comply. Have I made myself clear?_

She scooped the creature up in her arms, feeling it struggle against her psychic hold. Xan'Iir pushed back harder, knowing her will was by far stronger. She took the Terran aboard the shuttle, still forcing immobility on its body.

_Is the other Terran still alive?_

_Yes, High Templar, but only just._

_Then we shall depart._ Xan'Iir sent a mental order to the shuttle's navigation system, and the craft began to rise.

She looked down scornfully at the creature in her grasp. It indeed was a revolting creature; its scent alone was enough to send her insides reeling. But still, it was quite a pitiful sight... Part of her felt sorry for it…

_Stop struggling,_ she ordered. _It will do you no good._

She had been right about her.

Isha thrashed wildly in the Protoss' mental hold, screaming silently. _Let me GO let me GO let me GO!_

The Protoss merely tightened her hold, but Isha thrashed all the more. They were going to _study_ her, like an animal, they were going to do exactly what her Master did—torture and rape—

Isha squeezed her eyes shut, crying.

When it opened its eyes, it was no longer Isha.

Xan'Iir cried out in shock and pain, her mental grip shattered. The maddened little beast was tearing at her flesh, its mind a raging typhoon of pure bloodlust. She tried to defend herself, but it was too fast, biting and kicking and…

The two warriors pulled it off, holding it back as it thrashed wildly.

_Gods,_ she whispered, fingering a bloody gash on her exposed abdomen, _what foul beast is this?!_

The warriors held it fast, keeping their bodies far enough away to avoid its flailing strikes. Xan'Iir approached it slowly, locking eyes with it, analyzing its insane stream of thought.

_KILL it! KILL it! KILL them! Want it NEED it KILL—_

She forced her mind into the crazed Terran's consciousness, connecting with it directly, ignoring the enraged cries of blood and death and want.

_Fighting will do you no good. Even as you abandon all sane limitations, your power is not enough. Right now, if I so choose, I could break every single bone in your body without so much as a thought._

A flicker of comprehension flashed in the animal's eyes.

_Yes, you know full well the powers I possess. You are but an infant compared to me. I hold your life in my hands, you little monster, and I shall be the one dictating your fate. I can only pray you have the sanity left in you to choose wisely._

It stopped immediately. Its Master always carried out his threats; why wouldn't this one?

Slowly curled its lips back in a snarl, baring its teeth at the female Protoss. "I'll kill you," it hissed. "I'll fucking kill you."

It melted away, and, with a whimper, Isha collapsed into the warriors' arms.

Xan'Iir eyed the unconscious creature warily. _How odd,_ she mused, then straightened herself. _Put it with the other one._

The warriors grunted in acknowledgement, and gladly discarded the Terran where the other lay.

For the rest of the short flight, Xan'Iir stood, arms folded, with her head bowed and eyes closed. Her comrades recognized the stance as one of deep concentration, and knew better than to disturb her. They kept watch over the motionless Terrans, leaving the High Templar to her thoughts.

Now that things had quieted down, she could indeed feel a weak psychic aura coming from the black-clad Terran. Quaint. And as for the smaller one, what a bizarre animal! First it had been wrought with fear, then lost all sanity and attacked her, and then practically shut itself down for no reason. Xan'Iir made up her mind to learn what she could from both of them, then put them out of their misery. They were, after all, merely Terrans, and both could prove to be threats.

The shuttle docked with the warship _Dalthris,_ a mighty vessel that had gained recognition for its decades of service to Aiur. Xan'Iir ordered the Terran captives to be taken to the medical bay. A genetic sample was to be taken from each for analysis, and the smaller one was to be put in stasis. As for the psychic, the healers were to do what they could.

_And what of your injuries, High Templar?_ one warrior enquired.

_Minor. Now I must speak with the Executor; matters such as these deserve his attention._

With a whirl of her robes, she strode to her quarters, leaving the pair of soldiers to their orders.

Zak faded in and out of a hazy dream. There were glistening, golden creatures and a glistening, golden ship, and Isha was there and she was going crazy and he was too weak to help her and…

He awoke, his eyes still closed. Just a dream. He would open his eyes and Isha would be beside him and the Zerg would be gone and everything would be all right…

He opened one eye and shut it quickly against the sudden brightness. No such luck.

Bracing himself for the bright light, he opened his eyes again and looked around. Wherever he was, it damn well wasn't the bunk. The whole place seemed to be made of gold. The walls were decorated with strange, swirling patterns. Odd, unfamiliar machines were everywhere, and there wasn't a human being in sight.

His head throbbed with a strange buzz. It was not the Zerg, of that he was sure, but it seemed…

Different. Powerful.

Like how he'd felt when the Protoss burned Mar Sara.

Realization slammed into him like a bullet in the chest. "Shit," he spat, and tried to stand up—and was immediately slammed back down into the table.

_Oh, lovely. I've been abducted by aliens._

_Be more grateful, Terran. We have saved you from your own death._

His head snapped in all directions, his eyes scanning the room wildly. One of them was near—a Protoss! He had to get out of there, kill it, had to protect Isha—

_Look all you want, Terran; I am not here._

He blinked. "What the…?"

_I am High Templar Xan'Iir. You were correct in your assumption; I am indeed a Protoss. I am contacting you telepathically. Do not attempt escape, for then I would be forced to kill you._

"I don't give a _shit_ who you are! Let me out of here! Where's Isha?" He scanned to room again, looking for something—anything—

_You speak of the half-blood?_

The disembodied voice had his attention. "You… you know…? What did you do to her?!"

_Nothing, other than put it in stasis. It is quite a volatile creature; it nearly—_

"She's not an _it!_" Zak roared with rage, thrashing against the invisible bonds that held him. "You let her go! You let me go! Let us go or I'll—"

_You are in no position to make demands, Terran._ The voice was silent for a moment. When it spoke again, it seemed oddly amused, yet somewhat disgusted. _So, the creature is your mate?_

_Mate?_ Zak stopped struggling. He wasn't expecting a comment like _that_…

_Ah, so you are, then… You Terrans are such bizarre creatures! Bizarre and disgusting… Very well. I shall send an escort, and you will be permitted to see it, provided you comply with our orders. But know this, Terran—become problematic and you will be shown no mercy._

Zak agreed, more concerned with Isha's safety than coming up with a smart-ass retort. In a matter of minutes, a looming, golden-armored Protoss had appeared in the room. It was rather deadly looking, and Zak got the impression that it was pissed at having to baby-sit him. It looked at him with its demonic, fiery eyes, made a grunting sound in its chest, and the bonds holding him down were suddenly lifted. He considered pouncing on it and taking it out, but one look at the impressive muscles that weren't covered by the equally impressive armor and he thought better of it.

_Come, Terran,_ it barked telepathically.

Zak stood, and immediately realized two things. One, the Protoss was taller than him by at least half a meter. Two... he was naked. Damn.

"Uh, don't mean to be demanding or anything, but…" Zak scratched his head, trying his best not to irk the alien any further. "You wouldn't happen to have a pair of pants lying around, would you?"

The Protoss cocked its head. Now it was annoyed _and_ confused.

_Your armor and weaponry have been confiscated,_ it stated.

_Shit,_ Zak thought to himself, wishing he had his gun. "Erm… I mean clothing."

The alien was still very much confused.

_Oh,_ Zak thought, _culture gap._ "I… don't like running around naked. It's a human thing."

The Protoss's confusion was gone. Now it thought he was an idiot. Correction—it thought _all_ humans were idiots. It shot him a venomous look, picked up a random piece of cloth, and threw it at him.

_There, Terran. Cover yourself._ It turned its head and looked at him sideways, then added, _You Terrans are so hideous, you disgust even yourselves._

Zak once again wondered how much force it would take to knock the alien over. The fabric he had been so graciously offered was made of some thick, coarse material, and dyed a rich jade green. It was, in fact, a sort of tunic. Putting it on, he found it to be much too large for him. The shoulders were far too wide, causing the collar to sag down past his chest, and the whole thing was long enough to cover down beyond his knees. It hung off him strangely—it was, after all, designed for an alien. At least he wasn't naked.

The Protoss, making no effort to conceal its amusement in his dress, forcefully guided him down a sweeping corridor to a strange door. It looked like it was made of some sort of electric force field, and evaporated when his guide touched its hand to a panel.

The room beyond was small, dark, and eerily cold. It was lined with large, cylindrical tanks, filled with a transparent, green substance that seemed to suck the warmth out of everything around it.

Isha was within one of the tanks, her body limp, her clothing and hair frozen as if they were floating. Her eyes were closed. She wasn't moving.

Zak was speechless. Was she dead? She couldn't be… No!

The armored alien touched another panel, and the green substance disappeared. Isha's hair drifted downwards, once again obeying the law of gravity. She fell in slow motion to the bottom of the tank, the seemingly glass walls vanished, and her chest began to rise and fall slowly. She was breathing! She was alive!

Immediately, Zak scooped her up in his arms, burying his face in her hair, kissing her forehead, his eyes watering over with blessed relief.

"Isha, Isha, I'm here, I'm sorry I wasn't there, please Isha…"

It was like waking up from a long, deep sleep.

Isha clenched her eyes shut, willing the past few hours to be a dream. Zak would be there and—

"...please Isha..."

A voice...?

Her eyes opened. Someone was holding her.

_Zak..._

No.

She stared at him for a moment, then shoved him—hard—in the chest, knocking him away. "Shut up," she said, her voice just as flat and cold as Zak's had been a few hours ago and uttering the same words he had. "Don't touch me."

"What—? Isha—"

"What you did was stupid," she went on, moving away from him. "Don't do it again."

Zak was too stunned to move a muscle. "Is that… how I really made you… ah, damn it…" He glared at the floor, refusing to look at her.

He had _failed._ Failed her in so many ways. He had given in to pathetic human desire. He had been too stupid to stop her from running. He'd been too weak to save either of them back on Char…

"You're right. I was stupid."

He could tell she was looking at him. He could feel a strange mixture of emotions—confusion, surprise, hurt…

He raised his head, his face and voice flat and emotionless. "I let you love me, kid, and I was dumb enough to love you back."

The Protoss, still standing guard, was once again confused as hell. But it didn't matter. Isha mattered.

If he loved her, he couldn't protect her. If he didn't love her, then there was no reason to protect her.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he had to say. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to save your ass. I'm sorry I made you feel like shit when I tried to protect you. It took me a while to realize it, but…" He shrugged. "I am, after all they tried to make me, only human. Humans make mistakes. You are the biggest mistake of my life."

He met her eyes, barely able to take her pain, barely able to smile.

"I don't know about you, but I'm glad I made that mistake."

She suddenly found the floor just as fascinating as he had a few minutes ago. "I—"

She loved him, she loved him so much—

"You..."

"I know."

"But you—"

"I know."

They stared at each other for another long moment. Then Isha suddenly found herself in his arms.

She had no idea how she got there, or who had made the first move. But it didn't matter.

"Love you," she mumbled into his strange tunic, and his arms tightened.

Then she realized exactly _where_ she was, and what had happened, and snapped her head up.

Protoss.

Isha's fear was so sharp it was painful. Zak cringed and tightened his grip around her. The Protoss guard tensed, sensing her hatred.

"Isha, listen to me, it won't hurt you, okay?"

She didn't believe him. They were all the same to her. They had killed her parents. They had destroyed her life. They had destroyed whole damn _planets!_

"I won't let it get you."

_Terrans,_ the alien said, its voice powerful in their minds. _You must come now. High Templar Xan'Iir has ordered your presence._

"Fuck High Templar Xan'Iir," Isha growled. Zak let out a little laugh.

_Come, Terrans. Now._

Isha scowled, and Zak lifted her to her feet. "C'mon, Isha."

"She'll—"

"I won't let her."

She nodded, took a deep, shaking breath, and let Zak tug her after the alien.

They walked at a near jog in order to keep up with the guard—just one of its steps was equal to three of theirs. Zak kept Isha close to him, ready to protect her if the armored giant should turn and attack. He had no idea where it was taking them, other than it involved the Protoss he had spoken to before. High Templar Zaneer or whatever. What they planned on doing to them probably wasn't going to be pleasant, but he'd humor them for a while, at least until he found a way to escape.

He wrapped his arm around Isha's waist, the contact reassuring him that she was still there. Whatever the Protoss intended to do to her, he wouldn't let them touch her. He'd kill every last one of them if he had to. He wouldn't fail like he did down on Char.

The corridors seemed endless. They wove in and out, left, right, practically in every direction. Zak realized the alien was probably trying to confuse them so they couldn't find their way around on their own. Too bad for it—Zak was good at memorizing things. It was one of the advantages of his training. He took note of the turns they made and everything they passed.

He also carefully observed their alien escort. It moved with remarkable fluidity, its stride long and powerful, its body swaying gracefully with every step. It kept its gaze forward, its head chillingly still.

Like a snake.

That's what the Protoss reminded him of—snakes. They way they moved, the way they stared ahead unblinkingly, the way they could be calm and slow, then suddenly strike without warning…

They were serpents. Frightening. Elegant. Deadly. Zak was surprised that he could remember such an obscure animal—especially one from Old Earth—but the likeness between them was uncanny.

He allowed himself a glance into the alien's mind, and quickly withdrew. He felt a strange power within it, along with an overriding sense of unfamiliarity. It was unnerving—the Protoss's thoughts were interlaced with the thoughts of others, connected yet separate, creating a massive web of psychic energy. Pulling back, Zak could still feel its presence—the strange buzzing that hadn't left his head since he had awoken.

He remembered now. The Khala, Isha had called it. She had tried to explain it to him, but neither of them really understood. Besides, her "master" had been separate from it, so she only knew whatever he had chosen to rant about.

The party came to a halt at another force-field door. Zak instinctively pulled Isha closer to him. Their escort stood erect, and Zak could overhear parts of its words in the back of his mind.

_High Templar… I… Terrans._

_… Enter…_

The door vanished, and the guard practically shoved them through. Zak soon found himself standing before another Protoss. This one was smaller and less muscular. Its armor was different, too—lighter and more ornate, with a green cloth around its oddly shaped hips, heavy with swirling embroidery. Its face was angular, yet somehow soft, and its eyes shone a vibrant purple. It occurred to him that it might perhaps be—

_I am indeed female, Terran,_ a familiar voice sounded. High Templar Xan'Iir turned to the other Protoss and nodded. It bowed, then stepped back out into the hallway. Xan'Iir then brought her steady gaze to Zak and Isha, her amethyst eyes pausing long enough to shoot a glare of disgust in Isha's direction. Zak could feel her shaking, becoming very much panicked. He moved his hand to her shoulder and squeezed slightly.

_Let us waste no more time…_ The female Protoss strode closer, her eyes locked on Zak. He couldn't move. Why couldn't he move?!

_Show me your secrets,_ the alien whispered. She touched a clawed hand to his forehead…

And he was a little boy again. His classmates gathered around him.

"Guess how many brothers I have!"

"Um… this many?" He held up three chubby fingers.

"Hey, that's right!"

"Lemme try! Guess my birthday!"

"It's on Saturday, right?"

"Wow, you're a real good guesser, Zachary!"

And then one day the men came. They took him from his mommy. They kept him locked up in the dark for ages.

They taught him to be a weapon. They put a chip in his head and cameras in his eyes. He woke up one day with his head shaved, a scar on his temple, and his hazel eyes gone, replaced by cold, gray machines.

He killed for them until he couldn't do it anymore. Then he ran.

Then he found _her._

He loved her. They were lying together, staring into each other's eyes…

He was on Char, dying slowly…

Xan'Iir removed her hand, Zak's memories now a part of her. She knew everything he had known. The Confederacy, the experiments, Mengsk…

Before Zak could react, it was Isha's turn.

_Show me._

There was a monster in the playground.

It stood completely still, watching the children run around it, and sometimes stepped to one side or another to keep a child from hitting it. No one seemed to see it—but her.

Its eyes locked on her.

_You,_ it breathed. _Yes. You. You are perfect._

She whimpered, clutching to her confused parents, eyes wide and terrified.

_You are_ mine.

She was four, huddled in the corner of the kitchen, sobbing as her daddy held onto her mommy and shook and shook and shook, his eyes crazed with bloodlust and snarling all sorts of mad words. Then he was on the floor, his eyes glazed with horror and his hands bloody; he scrabbled around for his pistol—his brains splattered all over the floor; the monster was watching and smiling—

She was thirteen and screaming; her hand moved up and down with the knife as she stabbed her principal; over and over and over...

She was fifteen. The last "checkpoint," so to speak, of her knowledge of time. He was behind her, touching her in places that made her skin crawl—his hand slid down, down—she bucked against him, trying to wriggle away as he stabbed her with his body, screaming and sobbing—

Her hands closed around the little boy's throat. She couldn't let him live; couldn't let him go through what she had...

No more, NO FUCKING MORE! She lunged at him; he turned, his eyes wide and shocked; she attacked him, tried to kill him and his fist slammed into the side of her head...

Zak. The strange man helped her, healed her, kept her alive and cared for her...

She crouched in the grass, focusing on _not being..._

They lay together, kissing and touching...

She needed it; she needed it or she'd die. She knew that. The lack of the drug was killing her. She had kept that secret from Zak; he couldn't protect her from her own body.

Protoss were murderers and they'd do the same as her Master had done to her... sadistic murderers, all of them...

Isha turned and pressed her face into Zak's arm, whimpering. His rage that the Protoss had touched her was palpable, yet he couldn't move. The High Templar was withdrawing, face twisted in pain and horror that the memories had brought.

"They weren't yours," Isha heard herself say. "They weren't _yours_, they're _my_ memories; they're not yours..."

Xan'Iir stumbled backwards, reeling from the horrors within the creature's mind. Her eyes were wide; her whole body shook uncontrollably. The male Terran broke though her weakened psychic hold, bearing his teeth in rage and screaming loudly. She couldn't understand the sounds, and was too shaken to comprehend his thoughts. The noises he made grew louder, and he came at her, bellowing, a maddened look in his disturbingly cold eyes.

With a thump and a crack, his blow made contact with the Protoss's exposed abdomen. She flinched, jerking reflexively, but she did not respond. She barely registered the pain.

The human quickly withdrew his fist and clutched it with his other hand. For a Protoss, the abdomen was not a soft target. He made more sounds, backing away.

Xan'Iir stared blankly into nothingness. _Get out._

The Terrans stood motionless and silent.

She fell to her knees, supporting herself with her shaking arms. _Get OUT!_

Zak turned away from the alien, its elegant form spastically contorted. "C'mon, Isha, let's get out of here." He circled an arm around her shoulders and guided her out of the room. He didn't know where they'd go, and didn't particularly care.

As long as she was safe, it didn't matter.

Isha pulled away from Zak's grasp. She knew that, being a psychic such as he, he saw everything. He had seen _everything_ as the female Protoss had seen them.

She didn't want to live with that pain. She didn't want him to know all of that; didn't want him to know that she had murdered the little boy her Master had brought, squeezing the life out of him because she couldn't think of another human being going through the agony she had; didn't want him to know how her Master had, bit by bit, reduced her to a mere pet.

Isha ran, ignoring his cries behind her. She didn't want him to know...

She didn't know how long she had run, or how many turns she had taken, when she turned another and hit something very large and solid.

She staggered back, falling to the ground, looking up—

An enormous Protoss warrior stood before her, gazing down at her with deep blue eyes. His robes were even more ornate then the High Templar's had been and he carried an aura of great calm and wisdom. Isha didn't even think of running as he crouched gracefully, encircling her waist with his giant hands and standing, setting her on her feet.

His voice was deep and soft. _Where are you going, child?_

Zak ran after her, calling her name, cursing himself for letting her run _again_...

_Xan'Iir has told me much about you,_ the great warrior said. There was no disgust in his eyes, only pity.

And grief. Pain.

He put a large hand on top of Isha's head. _A great curse has been placed on you, child. But there is also power..._

The sound of bare feet slapping against metal echoed through the hallway. He took his gaze away from her, looking past her.

_Warrior,_ his soft voice sounded, and he lowered his head in a bow. _You have my respect._

Zak stared at the Protoss, his rage melting into astonishment. Respect? From a _Protoss?!_ His mouth hung slightly open, not knowing what to make of it.

The alien carried a sense of immense power with it. Zak could feel the buzz in his head grow stronger. It was indeed an impressive being... its eyes were so deep... and sad... like it carried the weight of worlds on its heavily ornamented shoulders.

Zak brought himself to attention, drawing his feet together and squaring his shoulders. Slowly, he bent at his waist, returning the gesture.

The Protoss, with a final understanding glance at the two humans, turned to leave. _En Taro Adun, brave Terrans. I am tired, and must rest._

Zak didn't take his eyes away from the being until it was no longer in sight. "Isha," he finally said, "please don't run anymore."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I couldn't... couldn't..."

Power. Yeah, right. Isha squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall. She was weak, a weak animal, a _pet_, an _abomination..._

A _thing._

"Where... where do we go now?"

Zak pulled Isha close to him, embracing her tightly. "I don't know."

He knew everything about her now—_everything._ When the Protoss female had touched them, she had forced all of their darkest memories to surface. He could remember his own past clearly, now...

_"Momma, who are those men outside?"_

_"It's okay, Zachary. You just go with them for a while, okay?"_

_"Are you gonna come?"_

_The dark-eyed woman knelt down and stroked his cheek. He could tell she was trying really hard not to cry. "No, Momma can't come."_

And the High Templar had left something behind, too...

_The monsoon season had reached its climax. Outside, rain poured in great sheets, running in miniature waterfalls down the golden, vine-covered arches and columns that made up their home. Thunder crashed loudly, and the wind howled like a crazed animal. Her little child wrapped his spindly arms around her, burying his face in her chest, shutting his golden eyes tight._

_Fear not, my little one. It will pass..._

Zak closed his eyes, bringing his chin to rest on Isha's scalp. "We'll find somewhere, okay?"

_Clank, clank, clank._

Isha's eyes widened as several Protoss came down the hall, circling them. She buried her head in Zak's strange tunic, clutching him tightly, hoping they wouldn't be separated again.

They weren't. The Protoss led them through the maze of hallways, until they came to another doorway.

_You will stay here until High Templar Xan'Iir or Executor Tassadar calls for you,_ one stated flatly, and they found themselves in spacious living quarters.

Well, it was better then the stasis field, at least...

Isha sat on the enormous, rather hard bed, curling up near the pillows. "Zak?"

"Yeah." He sat next to her, idly scratching the rough material.

She giggled, then reached up to plant a kiss on his lips. "You look funny."

"Yeah?" he breathed against her lips, grinning. "Well, it was either this or I run around naked." Their lips met for a moment, and for that short time he forgot that they were, in fact, prisoners of war. Or alien abductees. Or whatever. He ran his hand up her back, bringing a lock of her hair with it, traveling over her neck and finally resting on her cheek.

_You idiot. You weak, lustful son of a bitch. You can't afford it. You can't afford to dull your senses. You can't afford to make both of you vulnerable._

Zak hesitated, his nagging conscience grabbing his attention.

_Don't. You can't afford it._

Isha's eyes narrowed.

"Oh _no_ you don't." She grabbed him and yanked him down, surprisingly strong. "Don't you _dare._"

She grabbed the collar of his oversized tunic, pulling him over her, kissing him wildly.

"Isha—!"

"No."

"Sto—"

"No!" She yanked him again, and he fell on top of her. She was all over him, wrapping around him like a python.

He really, _really_ wished they had given him some pants...

Then again, she wanted it. _Isha_ wanted it. Isha was his number one priority. They loved each other, didn't they? Isn't that what lovers did? He felt himself slipping, his body overcoming his mind.

No. He was supposed to _protect_ her, not screw her. He couldn't afford to be vulnerable. Weak. There were too many things that could go wrong. Too many dangers... What if...?

He managed to wriggle free for a brief moment, and held her back by the shoulders. She scowled at him, her eyes shining from behind a sheet of dark hair.

"Dammit, Isha, what if I got you _pregnant?!_"

She laughed, a little wildly. "That's impossible. The first time Master raped me, he made me barren."

"Isha..."

"Khas damn it," she spat. "I don't give a flying _shit_ about you protecting me. Do you know what I want? I want _you._ That's all. Just you. I don't care if you 'fail,' I don't care if you're 'weak,' I don't _care!_"

"But I can't—"

"Fine." She turned away, facing bitter defeat, and slid under the covers. "I'm tired, then. Good fuckin' night."

She clenched her eyes shut, pretending to sleep.

"Isha?"

He tried to look inside her mind, but smacked his head against an invisible wall. Whoa. Weird.

He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, all right?"

She didn't respond.

He brushed his hand through her hair. "I still love you, okay? I just..."

He plopped down against the pillow, unable to put it all into words. He'd saved her life over and over, nearly died for her; she was the only thing that mattered. He didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to put her in danger...

Didn't want to have anything in common with the bastard that had ruined her, inside and out.

"I'll make it up to you later. I promise."

He closed his eyes. Part of him regretted refusing her, leaving her, rejecting her...

Part of him was afraid of what might happen if he fell asleep.

The Furinax scientist bowed, then straightened, waiting for High Templar Xan'Iir's go-ahead. When given, he began to speak.

_I am sure you have heard of the_ aisine? _The drug from long ago, when we were trying to increase the performance of the Zealots?_

She nodded, and he continued. _The drug, the _aisine, _was loaded with hormones from a Protoss' aggressive center, along with several other enhancement drugs but at a lesser level... needless to say, it was a very dangerous drug and the side effects were enormous. Hyper aggression, insanity, and dependence on the drug were some of them; the_ aisine _was immediately halted in its use._ The Furinax sighed. _I don't know how a Dark Templar would get his hands on it... he got her dependent on the drug, for an experiment I cannot fathom... of course, he diluted it. The pure_ aisine _would kill the Terran._

He sighed, shaking his head. _The Terran's DNA has been altered significantly. She cannot survive without it, High Templar._

Xan'Iir closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She felt a slight twinge of pity for the creature, but not enough to override her disgust. _Best to put the damn thing out of its misery, then..._ She reached out with her mind until she caught hold of a nearby warrior.

_You have orders, High Templar?_

_The half-blood,_ she said without hesitation. _Kill it._

_As you wish,_ he responded, then broke the link.

She shifted her attention back to the scientist. _I trust all remnants of the _aisine_ have been destroyed?_

She stared down at the Furinax, impatiently awaiting a response.

_I asked you a question. Was the drug completely destroyed?_

Zak awoke with a start. Something was coming...

"Isha, wake up!" he hissed, a coldness overtaking his mind.

Too late. A golden-armored Protoss burst into the room, spears of blue-white lightning springing to life on its wrists. Zak knew immediately why it was there.

"Get... the _hell... out of here!_" He lept to his feet, ready to resort to his fists if he had to.

_I have orders, Terran. I am here for the creature._

"You don't touch her!" He charged at it, winding up for an attack...

And was thrown back with a burst of electricity. A faint bubble of condensed energy flickered in and out of view around the warrior.

Damn! It was shielded!

He ran at it again, and this time it retaliated. It slashed out with its blades of lightning, slicing open his side.

"Dammit! Isha! Run!"

She awoke immediately, and ran without asking any questions despite the fact that she was bleary-eyed and confused with sleep.

The warrior turned, its blue-white spear slicing at her. _Do not run._

Too late. She bolted through the hallways.

Wait... where was Zak?!

She stopped. But around the corner came another alien, eyes fixed upon her, and she was forced to keep going, keep running, keep running...

There! A doorway! She lunged through, panting and bloody from half a dozen wounds.

_Child?_

She froze; slowly backed up... the great warrior was in front of her, head tilted to one side.

The warrior's eyes narrowed suddenly, and it gazed up past her; at the chasing Zealots. They stopped immediately.

The thunder behind his words magnified, and she fell to her knees with the sheer power of it. He held her up and she leaned against him as he spoke, his eyes burning with anger.

_High Templar Xan'Iir._

Xan'Iir cringed at her commanding officer's words. She immediately ran to answer his call. _Executor Tassadar,_ she squeaked, and rapidly bowed as low as she could. She did not raise her head; she was not foolish enough to do so.

_Did I not order you to keep the Terrans alive?_

She flinched. _Yes, Executor._

_Then why are your warriors hunting them down?!_ His thoughts were powerful enough to cause pain. She cringed again.

_Executor, forgive me, I—_

_You have broken my trust in you, High Templar. Remember that you are a warrior in _my_ fleet, and while you have command of a division and the _Dalthris_, you are not to go against my orders under any circumstances._

She sunk even lower than her current position. _Sir,_ she said quietly. She couldn't believe it. Humiliated in front of her own soldiers...

And over something so pathetic as the lives of two Terrans...

Tassadar narrowed his eyes further. _You will do best to control your thoughts._ He turned to one of the Zealots. _Get the other Terran. I am bringing both of them aboard the _Gantrithor_ and having their wounds attended to. As for the rest of you, go about your duties._

There was a chorus of "yes, Executor" and "as you will," and the warriors dispersed.

_Terran,_ the Executor said when the chaos had ebbed. He paused, then turned to look at the frail little creature before him. _Isha, come with me. There is something we need to discuss._

He guided her to a private room. He felt her creeping fear and laughed reassuringly. _No, I am not going to violate you in any way. Until I encountered you, I had thought that such an act was impossible..._

His deep, sad eyes looked straight into hers. _You need to make a choice, child. I am well aware that you have been exposed to a certain drug, and have become dependent to the point that you are dying without it. What I need to ask you is this. If you so choose, I can end your suffering immediately. Or you can choose to live out the rest of your natural life without any form of interference on my part. However, the third choice..._

He reached into his robes and produced a strange vial. Inside was a sickeningly familiar liquid.

_After personally investigating, I found that not all remaining _aisine_ samples had been destroyed as was originally ordered. If you so wish, I can insure you have a ready supply of the drug. I strongly disapprove of it, but I understand that your circumstances are unique. So what shall it be, Isha? Shall you live on with the curse, endure and die free of it, or free yourself completely and immediately?_

Isha's eyes locked upon the vial, her breath quickening.

_Needed_ it...

"Yes," it breathed, "give it to me."

It stepped forward, hands reaching for it, claws hooked.

"_Give_ it to me!"

_And so you embrace your curse,_ Tassadar sighed. _I cannot give it to you at this concentration; it must first be diluted. Until then... _He reached out with the power within him, carefully touching her mind, calming it... _Sleep._

Zak sat perched on the edge of a strange medical table, Protoss healers swarming around him, tending to his wounds.

"Hey, you guys sure what you're doing?"

_We have been observing your race since your arrival into our territory. We know enough._

"Oh, that's comforting..."

_It is the law of the Dae-Uhl. We observe. Never tamper._

"Yeah, sure, whatever..." He scowled inwardly. He'd failed again. He was worthless. Weak.

He shifted nervously. Shouldn't they have brought Isha in by now?

_Please refrain from moving._ The healer whipped out a rather nasty-looking tool.

"Whoah, wait, where do you plan on puttin' that—ow! Shit!"

_It only hurts if you move... Executor!_ Simultaneously, every Protoss in the room bowed. Zak turned to see the mighty alien standing in the doorway, Isha limp in his arms.

"Isha," Zak gasped, and jumped to his feet.

_Be still, Terran,_ the Executor commanded. He set Isha down on another table and handed a vial to a healer. _Dilute this to six per cent, then prepare it for injection._

_"WHAT?!"_ Zak rushed at the Protoss. "That's the... no way, no _way_, you are _not_ giving that to her!"

The Executor stared him straight in the eye. _It was her choice. You know that she shall die without it._

Zak stopped dead. He was right. Without the drug, Isha was dead...

...Rather have her die human than live with—

The Protoss commander looked at him sideways. _Is that so?_

"I..." He was right again. The drug meant life. What purpose did he have if Isha was dead?

_You are afraid... afraid that she will no longer care for you once the _aisine_ is in her possession._

"No, that's not... Dammit!" He stubbornly folded his arms and stared at the floor.

The healer appeared again with the diluted solution. Tassadar took it and held it out to Zak. _Here._

He looked at it, confused. "What are you...?"

_Her life is in your hands._

Zak took the syringe, feeling cold and sick as soon as his hand touched it. He walked in a trance-like state to Isha's sleeping form.

"I'm sorry, Isha."

The needle slid into the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry."

When Isha awoke, she felt different.

Clearheaded. Powerful.

"Kid?"

She turned, blinking, and stared at him, then beamed. Zak. Her savior.

She wrapped her arms around him as soon as he got within range, and kissed him enthusiastically, the doctors watching in fascination. She didn't care. She was here, he was here, and that was all that mattered.

"Hi," she said. "What's goin on?"

"Not much," Zak said, smiling with relief. The drug hadn't changed her. She was still Isha.

He turned to the Protoss commander. "Hey, thanks."

The alien bowed slightly, lowering his great, gray head in a respectful, understanding gesture. _I need not be thanked, Terran warrior,_ He began to leave, paused, then added, _My quarters are open to you if you so choose. I will be spending most of my time on the command deck._

"Thanks again… Hey, wait… Where are your—?"

Zak stopped in mid-sentence, surprisingly finding that he knew the way. Weird.

"So," he said to Isha, "wanna get outta here?"

Isha started to reply, but a red-eyed Protoss grabbed the man by the shoulder and dragged him back to the table. _Not until we are finished._ The healer brandished his nasty-looking tool. _Hold still._

"Oh, no, you are _not_ gonna—nngh! _Damn_ it! What the hell is _wrong_ with you guys?!"

"I—oh! You and—oh!" She covered her mouth, giggling, when Zak glared at her. "I'm sorry, but you—you look so—"

"Yeah, I've heard—ow!"

She giggled again. "Funny."

"It is not!" Zak gave the doctors a glare that usually would have sent someone running, but here the aliens completely ignored it.

_There,_ one finally said, not bothering to hide his annoyance and amusement, then finished and put away his odd tools. _You are worse then a young child..._

Isha laughed again at the thought of Zak as a kid, and he scowled at her.

"Hey," she said, tugging his arm, "let's take advantage of that nice man's quarters."

"Yeah, just get me outta here," he said as he stood. He shot one last glare at the doctors. "Touch me with that thing of yours again and I'll shove it up your ass."

The red-eyed healer did something strange with his face—a smile? _I must inform you, Terran, that certain anatomical differences between our races render such an act impossible._

Zak raised an eyebrow, shook his head, and happily left the medical ward behind him. _Damn aliens…_

Isha chuckled behind her hand.

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, seriously, it wasn't that funny."

She grinned up at him. "Says you." She looped his arm over her shoulders, resting her hand on his. "Anyway…"

Zak stopped himself from flinching. He couldn't…

Yes. Yes he could. They were safe here. Protected.

"Yeah, I know. I owe you."

The dim, bluish lighting of the Executor's quarters was a pleasant change from the harsh glare of the medical ward. The room was small, and surprisingly simple. The only furniture was a large, oddly shaped chair and a strange, circular bed that looked like it had never been touched; Zak doubted that its owner slept much anyway. He imagined the alien spending most of his time in the chair, cross-legged, quietly meditating. There was a small dish built into a wall, and water trickled down into it from a hole above. In the center of the room was an impressive device made of golden, metal stalagmites with a large crystal in the center. The crystal gave the place its azure glow, and seemed to be responsible for an eerily cool feeling in Zak's skin.

"Nice place," he commented.

Isha regarded the room with a curious mixture of fear and awe. "It's..."

_Not like my Master's,_ she wanted to say, but didn't. Her Master had a shard like that, yes, but it was a sickly greenish yellow in color and made her sick to look at. He had sometimes forced her to touch it, keeping her hands in contact with it with his own large ones until she was so sick she'd throw up. It had been a strange ritual; he watching her carefully as she tried to tug away, and she had gotten the impression that it was another experiment.

But this crystal... emanated a cool, gentle glow that the other one hadn't, and it calmed her mind to gaze at it.

Tearing her eyes away, she hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed, Zak standing before her, biting her lip, suddenly doubtful. "Will he be mad that we used his bed for this?"

She did _not_ want to make him mad... she liked him, and he was scary when he was mad, in a different way that her Master had been.

Zak sat down next to her. "I don't think he'll get mad."

His thoughts drifted back to the Executor. The alien was different from the rest. More… understanding.

Why was he going out of the way so much to help them, anyway? Weren't they enemies at war? What was his deal?

Redemption. Zak recalled the look in the Protoss's deep, sapphire eyes. He was wrought with guilt and wanted to make up for his terrible deeds in any way he could.

He had given the order to take down Antiga Prime and the Sara planets. He was responsible for the deaths of countless innocents.

And he hated himself for it.

Zak closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. They weren't so alien after all…


	4. Chapter 4

Several hours later Isha closed her eyes, inhaling his scent. She loved everything about him...

Beside her, he stirred. "Christ," she heard him mutter, "you were really waiting for that, weren't you?"

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips, to which he responded enthusiastically. "You were too."

"Was not," he replied, holding her close, his hands settling on her lower back.

"You can be so childish sometimes."

"_Me?_"

"Uh-huh..." She hugged him tightly, leaning her head against his shoulder.

The doors opened, and Isha sat bolt upright, startled. After a moment she realized and pulled the blankets up to cover herself, pouting at the large alien commander. "Not very nice..." Again, she realized what she had said and blushed. "Your quarters, right. Um... sorry."

He chuckled, the sound like a deep bell inside her head. _Do not fear. I did say you could use my quarters... and I knew you would be doing this._ He glided over to the middle of the room, pausing near the crystal, and slowly sat down, not giving the two Terrans another glance.

Isha hastily grabbed her clothes and put them on, then slipped out of the bed while Zak was still trying to figure out how to get his tunic without being seen (she had tossed it across the room), and hesitantly walked over to the enormous Protoss, who gazed at her with calm curiosity as she approached.

"Um," she started, then paused, and gestured to the crystal, trying to think of how to explain about the crystal her Master had. "What... what is that?"

_Khaydarin,_ Tassadar answered. _It is sacred to my people; the gods themselves utilized it in fashioning us… the Xel'Naga, they are called. The crystal is a catalyst of sorts. It gives us energy, power, focus. This one here I use for meditation, but it is connected to a booster for long-distance communication._ He paused, looking into Isha's mind. _As for the one you were exposed to, I am uncertain as to what was done to it. Its energies were corrupted somehow. Do not ask me to explain; I have never even heard of such a thing._

Zak stumbled and swore in the background. The Protoss commander looked over inquisitively in his direction.

"Ah, damn son of a…"

Tassadar motioned slightly with his head, and the discarded tunic was thrown across the room and flopped against Zak's chest. _I still do not understand why you Terrans are so ashamed of your own bodies…_

"It's not really that kind of… gah, whatever…" Zak pulled the rough, green fabric over his head. "Thanks… how'd you do that, anyway?"

_Practice,_ the alien replied simply. He slumped a little—telekinesis was especially difficult. He turned back to Isha. _Do you have any more questions?_

"Um... yeah." She squirmed, not wanting to bother him any more, but still curious. "Master—he—would always rant. You know, about the... the Khala, the... the Conclave... and..." she bit her lip.

She should just leave the man alone...

Damn her curiosity!

"What is it? What's the Khala? Why were the Dark Templar banished? Who's the Conclave? Why was High Templar Xan'Iir so mean? What—" she stopped. He probably came here to meditate; why was she bothering him? She would just get him mad...

Isha fled back to the shelter of Zak's arms, flushing brilliantly red. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Zak hugged her reassuringly. "Hey, relax, okay?"

Tassadar chuckled slightly. _You do not anger me, child; such a duty is best left to my Advisor… Very well. Allow me to explain my people's history._

_Countless ages ago, the Xel'Naga, the Wanderers from Afar, came to this galaxy for the sake of creating a creature blessed with a purity of form. We were their greatest accomplishment, and they blessed us, naming us 'Protoss,' the First Born. Millennia passed, and their children became a shining civilization. We were connected by a primal psychic link, making us one in our greatness. The Xel'Naga descended from the heavens, and they were our gods. However…_ Tassadar paused, then continued, _this golden age began to collapse. No one knows why, but our ancestors turned on the gods, attacking them brutally and forcing them to abandon their children. The psychic link broke down, and we then turned on each other. What followed was a dark age, one that my people are deeply ashamed of—the Aeon of Strife. Blinded by selfish interest, my ancestors sought the blood of one another, and it seemed that their rage could not be quelled._

_Khas was our savior. It was he who rediscovered the sacred Khaydarin crystals; it was he who mended the broken link. He brought the warring Tribes back together, under the law of the Khala, the Path of Ascension. The Law is the connection we share, and the society created by it. The First Born were brought together under the rule of the Conclave, and divided into three castes: Judicator—the lawmakers, Templar—the warriors, and Khalai—the builders. Under the Khala, we rebuilt, and once again became great._

_But there were a few Tribes who refused to accept the Khala. After centuries of silence, the warrior Adun was sent to eliminate them. Unable to take the lives of his brethren, he attempted to show them the power locked within. This turned out to be disastrous, as without the Khala's guidance, the wayward Tribes could not control their own energies. The Conclave ordered them banished. Over time, the rouges became known as the Dark Templar. To this day, they are seen as a danger to our society, and we hunt them down as enemies._

Tassadar leaned back in his chair. _As for Xan'Iir, do not mind her. She does not understand Terrans, and views your people as little more than animals. Seeing our blood in the veins of a human is especially unnerving for her. In time, her prejudices should fade…_ He closed his eyes, letting energy flow through him.

_I hope I have answered your questions. Now, please excuse me. I must meditate._

_But she tried to have us_ killed...

The words were on her lips, but Isha didn't say them, instead biting her lip. _And she took our memories; that was wrong, they were ours, it wasn't_ right...

She had a ton more questions, more specific ones pertaining to her, but she held them in check and snuggled with Zak on the bed for a while. Several hours later the warrior who Isha learned was the Executor Tassadar stood and stretched in one movement. Since she was beginning to doze, the movement startled her and she jumped slightly and squeaked. Tassadar blinked and looked over at them, then smiled slightly and glided out of the room.

Isha relaxed more now that he had left. "Zak?"

"Mm."

"...You can't look inside my mind any more, can you?"

Zak jerked involuntarily. He hadn't noticed it until now, but ever since the Protoss had taken them in he hadn't gotten a thought out of her…

That didn't make sense; he was still getting things from the Protoss, and when Xan'Iir had touched them, he'd been just as strongly affected, but…

He sighed and absently scratched the back of his head. "I… really don't know."

He remembered what had happened when Isha had been angry with him. It felt like having a door slammed in his face.

"It's weird. I think you're blocking or something. Either that or I'm losing my touch."

She smiled and kissed him. "I don't think that's possible."

"Oh, no?"

Isha laughed, her hands under his tunic again, tracing patterns on his chest. "Nope."

"Hey, I already gave you my dues..."

She pouted convincingly at him, lower lip protruding. "Oh, fine... you don't like it. Well, all right then..." she rolled over—then laughed as he rolled with her.

"Hey!"

The _Gantrithor_ was indeed a work of art. It glided smoothly through space, its engines so perfectly built that, even at the most intense speeds and conditions, the environment within remained virtually unchanged. Surrounded by a mighty fleet of golden warships, it was a truly magnificent sight.

Tassadar stood on the command deck, gleaming blue eyes focused on the display before him.

The retreating Terran fleet, or what was left of it, was being brutally attacked by the Zerg hordes. The besieged Terrans didn't stand a chance against the monsters.

_Launch Interceptors._

Immediately at his order, tiny robotic fighters spilled forth from the bellies of the largest warships.

_Target only the Zerg. Fire at will._

Stinging blue light shot out at the beasts, rupturing their super-dense carapaces and leaving the cold vacuum of space to do the rest. They retaliated, abandoning the ravaged Terrans to face these new aggressors.

Had it been a planetary battle, the Protoss would have been in rather deep trouble. However, although the Zerg could survive in the void, they could not attack so savagely. In space, they were weak.

It was perhaps the only place they were weak.

Within the Executor's quarters, a shield of human sensation and emotion left Zak and Isha blissfully unaware of the battle raging around them.

Zak had gone to see if he could find some different clothes, leaving Isha to stare out the great window in Tassadar's quarters alone. He had wanted her to come with him, but she didn't feel safe enough to venture out just yet.

She sighed, wandering around the room. What was going on out there? Were they beating the Zerg? Had the Protoss attacked the other Terrans?

Other questions--the ones she had wanted to ask Tassadar—also kept swimming around her head. Why had the Protoss destroyed the Terran planets, only to save them? Why was Tassadar being so wonderfully nice to them, when they were supposedly enemies in war?

Would her Master ever be caught?

The crystal drew her attention, its faint hum in the back of her mind pulling her over until she stood before it without realizing she had moved. Isha blinked. The crystal was the focus point of her curiosity. Now that she knew no one was going to torture her for such curiosity, she found herself reaching out towards it.

Her finger made contact.

An intense, bone-rattling hum literally knocked her off her feet, an almost electrical shock slamming through her.

She couldn't move... couldn't breathe... all that was left was that incessant humming; dulling her senses...

"Okay, there was a whole friggin' _battle_ out there?!"

_Yes._

"And I _missed_ it?!"

_Yes._

"Damn… There's something wrong with me…" Zak scratched his head, annoyed.

_I could examine you for abnormalities…_ The red-eyed healer began to reach for his little set of tools.

"No thanks. Anyway, I get my shit back now, right?"

_Indeed, Terran, but why the Executor is allowing you to carry a weapon—_

"Just hand it over."

The Protoss reluctantly presented him with his gear—still grimy with the ash of Char, his suit still bloody and torn.

Zak muttered an equally reluctant "thanks" and gathered it all up.

_Now, is there anything else you insist on bothering me about?_

Zak thought for a minute. "Actually, yeah. Food. And I really gotta piss."

The healer made a facial expression Zak assumed was the equivalent of rolling one's eyes. _This way, Terran…_

He returned to the Executor's quarters, laden down with his gear, various unfamiliar fruits, and a deep blue, toga-like garment for Isha. He figured she was getting tired of the gritty clothing she had on, and…

Wait… A strange tug on the back of his mind alerted him that something was wrong.

"Isha…?" He stepped nervously into the room.

She was on the floor, motionless, eyes wide with shock.

"Isha!" He dropped everything, falling to his knees at her side, hastily checking over her vitals.

She wasn't breathing. With a quick curse, he pinched her nose shut and blew air into her lungs.

"You are _not_ gonna do this to me again, come _on_…"

It took several tries for Isha to catch on, and she gasped for breath under him. Her senses were still thrumming; all her mind heard was that hum that drowned up Zak's frantic words.

She felt like she had been shocked, and badly. She tried to move her hands, to touch him, tell him she was all right, but found that they wouldn't move. Her chest kept stopping, and over and over Zak had to breathe for her.

Over time—she didn't know how long—the hum gradually faded now that she was out of contact with the crystal. She could breathe, but she still couldn't move, something that probably didn't help Zak's nerves one bit.

A shadow fell over her, and a deep voice told Zak to be calm, it would fade. She heard Zak snarl at the voice, but she couldn't figure out what was said.

Her arm twitched. Startled, she focused on moving it, and found that she could clench her fist.

The rest of her limbs were loose and floppy, and the hum was still there, but not permeating everything, and it was slowly ceasing. She still couldn't talk, or sit up.

Zak whirled on the Executor, teeth bared in panicked rage. "You'd better tell me what the fu—"

_She came in contact with the Khaydarin,_ Tassadar replied calmly. _Normally, the crystal would have little effect on a Terran; it is attuned only to those born of Xel'Nagan genetics. It must have reacted to the Protoss blood within her, but her body was unable to process its energies._

"And you _knew_ this?!" Zak fumed, more than ready to beat the living shit out of the alien before him. "You _knew_ she could get hurt—_killed_—and you didn't tell me?!"

Tassadar's thoughts were level and composed. His gaze, however, radiated powerful authority, reminding the Terran that it was foolish to challenge him. _I did not know the backlash would be quite so dramatic, and I apologize for my carelessness on the matter. However, no permanent damage has been done. If you would calm your emotions and look, you would realize she is recovering quickly._

Zak quickly turned and saw Isha's body stir. With a sudden cry, he one again dropped to the ground beside her. He gathered her up in his arms, his words coming out in a frantic, relived, angry, joyous jumble. "Isha are you okay I thought I was gonna lose you what were you thinking you could have died and I wasn't there and don't ever do something like that again!"

"Ssssokay," she slurred, patting him sluggishly on the shoulder. "Immokay."

"Jesus, Isha—"

Isha experimented wriggling her toes. The hum was almost completely gone now, but her senses were still on overload, and everything seemed to be under a dim fog. Despite the fact that she had been near death—_again_—she felt rather calm, and wondered idly what the voices she had detected under that hum was.

She looked up at Tassadar, her gaze sliding in and out of focus. "Mmsorry," she mumbled. "Was just... curious..."

"Yeah, you'd better curb that curiosity of yours, kid," Zak half-scolded. "Keep this up and I seriously will never let you out of my sight. Literally."

And he meant it. He truly was afraid when she wasn't with him, and had immediately regretted leaving her alone.

Tassadar stood silently, observing the Terrans with renewed curiosity.

_She has felt it… how interesting…_ his mused aloud.

Zak eyed him questioningly. "Felt what?"

_The Khala._ Without another thought, he glided out of the room, his musings trailing behind him, echoing the flow of his elegant robes.

She flushed brilliant red. "Sorry... you don'... don' have to watch me..."

Zak was still holding her very close, lips in her hair. She tilted her head back to look at him.

"You're'n... not... mad?"

"No, kid, but you freaked me out."

"Mm." Isha unfolded her legs and braced them against the ground, pushing herself upright. Zak helped her. "Mmsorry."

He just shook his head.

She blinked, then tilted over to look at the pile of clothes and things on the floor. "Whazzat?"

"Food, clothes, the works." He smiled, still a bit strained. He helped Isha walk over, and she rummaged through it, wrinkling her nose when she came to his suit. "Ick... oh, hey, what's this?"

She picked up the blue robe, and stood. "This is too small for you, and it looks kinda like what a girl would wear..."

He laughed. "It's for you."

"Oh, really? Cool." She grinned up at him and shed her clothes, draping the cloth over her. It fell softly to the ground.

Isha had never worn a dress, but this made her feel like she was. It was obviously made for a young one, someone who hadn't grown up all the way, and almost fit her. The collar was still a little too wide, but it draped down, barely covering her breasts and ending just below them. It gave an odd, sort of exotic look, and she smiled at Zak again, who was staring.

"What?"

It was impossible not to stare. The garment was still a little too big—everything was too big for Isha—but it seemed to be meant for her. The soft, deep blue material almost shimmered, in stark contrast to the rough, crude garment Zak was forced to wear. It dipped low on her chest and hung gracefully around her hips, giving an unearthly elegance to features that had seemed strange and disproportionate in the simple shirt and pants she had worn before.

He recalled what he had thought of her before—inhumanly beautiful. Now, he realized just what it meant. The strange, serpentine grace now could be identified.

As Tassadar would have put it, it was in her blood.

Coming out of his stupefied trance, Zak coughed and scratched his head. "It, uh, suits you…"

He bent over and picked up a few strange, brightly colored fruits. "Here, try this. Our buddy back in the med wing said it should be safe, but I don't trust him, so eat slowly. I don't exactly know how to pump stomachs."

He slung his suit over an arm and plucked a small compartment off of his belt.

Isha wrinkled her nose. "You're not gonna wear that, are you?"

Zak sat on the edge of the bed. "Nah. Just gotta do a patch job." He clicked open the little pouch and pulled out several small tools. Slowly and meticulously, he set to work mending the wiring and circuitry that had been damaged within the fabric. Repairing the complex sensor array was especially tedious, but not impossible. Once that was done, it was time to mend the fabric itself…

He must have looked like a fool, he thought to himself. Here he was, wearing what could damn well be a dress… and he was sewing. Needle and thread. In a dress. Sewing.

Isha didn't really care that he was "in a dress sewing." She had never heard of the gender roles; had never abided much by them or paid attention to them. Her life had been dominated by the most primal of instincts: get food. Stay alive.

She nibbled delicately on the fruit, scraping off a piece with her teeth and sucking lightly on it. Its texture was unlike anything she had ever had... then again, she hadn't had much. Carefully she bit into it—

—and an explosion of sweet nectar flooded her mouth. She coughed, startling Zak, then waved her hand reassuringly to make sure he didn't freak out.

She devoured the fruit, then crawled up to sit beside Zak, holding another out for him. He waved it away, still intent on fixing his suit.

"So," she said, after forcing him to take a bite of the fruit, "what's going on in the outside world?"

Zak wrinkled his face a bit at the taste of the fruit—it was far too sweet—and forced himself to swallow. "Ugh …" He caught Isha's pouting face. "Eherm! Ah, it's delicious! Mmm, tasty!" He patted his stomach for emphasis.

She stuck her lip out further. "Liar."

"What? I'm not a fan of sweet, okay?" He reluctantly crammed the rest of the fruit into his mouth and made another face. "Anyway, things are still pretty wild. The Protoss and Zerg are still goin' at it, and our buddies—you know, Raynor and his boys—are getting hit pretty hard. But they're holding on." He finished stitching up a hole and moved to the next. "And here's the crazy part—Tassadar went out of his way to save what was left of our pals from a Zerg attack. That was when we were… you know…"

He shook his head. "It just keeps gettin' weirder and weirder. Next thing you know I'm gonna grow another head…" He put his needle and other tools back into their pouch, glad to be finished with his repair work.

Isha crawled onto his lap and curled up, smiling at him. "Sex. C'mon, you can say it. Sex."

"Isha..."

"S-E-X."

"Very good. You can spell."

"You can't say sex."

"I can too, it's easy to say."

"Can not. You're scared." She giggled, nibbling his finger. He shifted, embarrassed. "Scaredy-cat."

"Oh please—"

The door opened. Tassadar strode in again, looking especially tired. Isha bounded up, trotted over and beamed at him. "What's _really_ happening out there?"

He stopped, blinking down at her, and smiled. _Ah, I'm glad it fits._

"C'mooonnnnn! Tell!"

_You are quite demanding, child,_ the commander chuckled, patting Isha on the head. Zak felt himself involuntarily tense at the idea of someone else touching her, and forced himself to relax. Tassadar was a friend.

The alien met his eye and gave a slight nod. _I will not harm her,_ his voice whispered in Zak's mind. He slid into his curved meditation chair, limp with weariness.

_We fight the Zerg with all our strength, and yet their numbers seem to be on the rise. I have requested reinforcements, but…_ He rubbed his brow in exhausted frustration. _… Many believe that, since I was hesitant to burn the infested worlds, I am no longer a competent commander._ He slid lower on his chair, his eyes closed in a defeated expression. Zak felt a pang of the alien's emotion deep within his gut. _Perhaps the only positive outcome is that the small Terran fleet present here was spared from certain annihilation. I was able to contact the commander, James Raynor, but he was not willing to negotiate. After what I have done, I cannot blame him for it…_

Suddenly, Tassadar sat bolt upright. Zak caught fragments of what he was hearing.

_Executor… our… found…here!_

Tassadar rose to his feet, his drained air shed like a heavy cloak. _Dark Templar._

_Dark Templar!_ Isha froze, her face turning dead white. With a small whimper she bolted to Zak, pressing her face into his chest.

"Hey, it's okay. They won't get you."

His arms were tense as he held her, though, and she let out a sob.

"I promise."

_Make that a double promise,_ Tassadar replied. _As I, for one, will not tolerate this._ He strode out the door, leaving them alone.

"They'll take me," Isha cried, "they'll take me, they'll bring me back to him..."

Zak's grip tightened further. "Listen to me, Isha," he hissed, "you are _never_ going back to him, not even if you _wanted_ to! Not after what he did! Do you understand?"

Shikheh kept his back against the metal wall. Trapped! They'd caught him—he'd been fool enough to snoop around and they'd caught him!

His wide, fiery eyes went from face to scaly face, seeing only hatred and fear. He knew full well what happened when they took his kind prisoner.

They'd kill him… if he were lucky.

_Run! Run, you stupid bastard!_ he screamed inwardly, but there was nowhere _to_ run…

_Heretic,_ growled one of the Zealots, _prepare to pay for your crimes._

_My crimes?!_ Shikheh spat back. _I have done nothing! It is you who have sinned! You, who hunt us down and--_

_Spare us your lies, traitor,_ hissed another warrior. _Athict, deal with him_

A young, blue-eyed soldier stepped forward, psi-blades sparking to life.

_No!_ the Dark Templar squeaked, pushing himself deeper into the cold wall behind him. _Please don't kill me! I… I have a message to deliver to your commander! Please!_

_A "message"?_ Athict narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. The cowardly Dark Templar was practically whimpering; he should just kill him, kill the heretic—

But what if the message was important?

_Athict, why are you hesitating? Kill him!_

He paused, then hauled the terrified Dark Templar to his feet roughly, holding the blade to his throat. _One move,_ he hissed. _One wrong move._

The shadowy one gave a mental nod, too aware of the blade against his throat to perform the action physically.

Athict turned and began to drag him.

_You know, this is rather embarrassing,_ Shikheh complained, _not to mention rude. Being but a peaceful messenger, should I not be treated with respect? You could at least let me walk—_

The warrior dragging him raised his free arm, the blue blade mounted on his wrist glowing menacingly.

Shikheh's eyes widened. He nervously chuckled. _Heh… uh… my, such mercy you show me, sparing my life and all. You are indeed a noble being. Truly chivalrous. Yes, I am eternally grateful for—_

_Shut up or I slice your neck to match the length of your nerve cords._

The Dark Templar immediately fell silent.

After what seemed like an eternity, he was forced to his knees and found himself staring at a rather ornate set of green robes—the robes of an Executor.

_Executor, the heretic says he has a message for you._

_Does he?_ an impressive voice said. _Then may he speak._

Shikheh seized the opportunity to throw himself on the floor in a submissive bow. _Your Excellency! Please, kind sir, spare my life! I am but a humble—_

_The message, dark one._

Oops. He'd been caught again. _Message?_ he questioned innocently, straining himself to appear harmless.

The Executor's eyes narrowed. _You disgust me,_ he said, then turned to the soldier. _Put him in stasis._

_Stasis?!_ Shikheh jumped at the word. _Why, sir, I—_

_Would you prefer immediate execution?_

The Dark Templar paused, putting a hand to his chin, then immediately proceeded to praise the Executor for such mercy, promising to repay him and…

He was being dragged away again, much more roughly. _That hurts, you know…_

Zeratul gazed across the endless sea of lava and rocks, his emerald eyes blazing.

Shikheh. Ah, what a fool... bumbling, eager-to-please... he thought idly about rescuing him, but dismissed the idea. The fool would probably get himself out of the mess fine... and if he didn't, oh well. Zeratul had no love for him, and was had been reluctant to take him along in the first place.

The thing was, Zeratul _was_ going to send someone with a message, telling Tassadar he wished to speak with him, but to the hells with that. The Templar of the Conclave would not allow a second Dark Templar in their midst, and certainly wouldn't believe one.

_Prepare yourselves,_ he said, his deep, wise voice reverberating through his kinds' minds, as he watched the golden Shuttles descend about half a kilometer away. _We are to speak to them._

Xan'Iir was first out of the shuttle, her troops assembling behind her. She could hear the whirring of the Dragoon walkers as they stepped onto the ashen world with their spidery, mechanized legs.

_Brothers,_ she addressed her men, _I feel the presence of the Fallen Ones; they are near. Prepare to engage, but be wary. Their powers are not to be underestimated._

The troops began to spread out, searching the smoldering landscape for signs of the Dark Templar. Above, a robotic Observer flew hidden from all but the most advanced detectors, its complex sensor arrays ready to pinpoint the exact location of the heretics, if necessary.

_I can feel you, heretics,_ Xan'Iir whispered to the wind, extending her senses into the wasteland. _You cannot hide from me._

Zeratul stepped calmly out of the shadows, arms loosely by his sides in an unthreatening manner. He knew how excitable the Khala Protoss could be.

Around him, his brothers and sisters followed suit, forming a dark shadowed head with Zeratul at the tip.

He folded his arms, watching the Zealots and Dragoons tense, expecting battle. Forearms came up, piercing blue spears igniting; protective fire casings slid back to reveal deadly photon cannons. He could feel the tension through his severed nerve-cords.

_And why would we hide from you, sister?_

Xan'Iir's muscles tightened as the battle lust emanating from her comrades began to grow. She felt cold—disturbingly cold—the minds of the Dark Templar were closed to her. Separated.

_What right have you to address me in such a way?_ she hissed, the power within her sparking, multiplying. _You have abandoned all ties of kinship to our people, Dark Templar! How dare you see us as one! Apprehend them, brothers!_

On her word, the soldiers stepped forward, blades aglow.

Xan'Iir kept her gaze locked on the emerald eyes of the leader, approaching him slowly and purposefully. _You have violated the most sacred of laws. You have rejected that which is pure and embraced the tainted and corrupt. You are a threat to order, to society, and to the children of Aiur. It is the duty of the Templar to see that such crimes do not go unpunished. In the name of Aiur, the Khala, and the Conclave, you shall be brought to justice._

The two Protoss were now eye to eye, neither moving nor blinking. Xan'Iir's power had reached its peak, ready to be unleashed by a simple thought. The Dark Templar leader did nothing, only matched her gaze, drawing back his powerful shoulders in silent defiance.

_Resist and be killed._

_So naive,_ Zeratul sighed. _Ah, I should have expected as much. You Khala Templar are so excitable..._

At this, Xan'Iir looked just about ready to explode. Her eyes practically sparked with rage; her hands were clenched into fists. She was still very close to him, but he did not care in the slightest. Her comrades encircled them quickly—or tried to, for the Dark Templar simply slipped around them. It was like trying to grab water.

_Tell them to be still, or be killed._

_You would kill us anyway, sister. You are too young to understand the greatness if only our race would become one again. You are too naive to know of the Conclave's lies; of what they would have you _believe_ we are. In reality, there is nothing but deceit. Nothing but twisted truths and lies._

He gestured. His warriors stepped back, melting into the shadows; he lifted an arm and gestured again; almost lazily. The Observer that was carefully watching them suddenly twitched in midair and then fell, its systems crushed into an intelligible mass. As its sensors died, the Dark Templar fled.

_There; now you shall not worry about the rest of my warriors, sister. I only wish to speak to Executor Tassadar._

Xan'Iir was fuming. It took all her self-control not to just lash out and crush the heretic's skull. She was also truly afraid—the power she had felt when he destroyed the Observer, the ripple of energy that surrounded the Dark Templar as they vanished… It was cold. Unnatural. Dark. Forcing herself to show no fear, she only escalated her rage.

_Anything you wish to say to the Executor you can say through me,_ she hissed. Her robes began to ripple; the rocks at her feet were shuddering with energy.

_That will not be necessary. High Templar, stand aside. I shall deal with this matter personally._

Xan'Iir whirled around. _Executor! Sir, what do you think—_

Tassadar's level gaze shot through her. _Stand aside._

Xan'Iir lowered her head, the swirling energies around her ebbing. _As you will._

_Brother,_ Zeratul said warmly.

_Dark Templar._

Zeratul sighed again, shaking his head. _I merely wish to praise you for sparing the Terrans... I did not know the Templar of the Khala could be so merciful._

Tassadar flinched, a tortured expression crossing his mind; one that he smoothed over immediately. His voice was a low growl. _Speak, or I shall have you executed._

The old one bowed. _Very well. I am Zeratul, Prelate of the Dark Templar. I wish to join forces with you; become one in battle. Do you not see the potential we have together?_

_Why would we join forces with such as you, heretic?_

He gazed past him, a gentle smile on his face. _Because we are under attack._

Tassadar whirled.

The Zerg were topping the rise; none of them had noticed save Zeratul because they had been focused on him and ready for battle.

Tassadar's voice was thunderous. _To arms!_

In that split second, they clashed.

Zeratul called out again, this time bringing back his brethren, who had simply waited in the shadows. They came immediately, the pulse of their spirits the same as the Zealots and High Templar.

And it was battle.

Fire raged within them.

The souls of the Protoss merged into one unstoppable wave, rising against the sickening pulse of the Zerg. The rush filled each and every one of them to the brim, intensifying their senses and focusing their power.

They were one.

Xan'Iir called up the power within her, the bonds of the Khala drawing it from her brethren and amplifying it, to the point where she had no choice but to let it out.

And she did. With a wild shriek, she unleashed her psychic energy, watching in maddened satisfaction as the sheer force of it tore apart the Zerg before her. The intensifying buzz in her head signified that Tassadar and the other High Templar were doing the same.

She was able to unleash the devastating storm once more, then had no energy left to call up, she fell back, allowing the Dragoons to take their turn. Volley after volley was fired into the approaching mass, leaving holes that were filled up all too quickly.

Then the Zerg were upon them.

For the first few minutes, the Protoss continued to lash out with unstoppable force, but after so long the shields began to wear down, exposing the warriors beneath them. Xan'Iir heard the first cries of the dead rise above the roar of battle, and could see wisps of bluish light vanishing into the air—the resulting psychic backlash as their souls were given back to the gods.

She called out to her men, directing them, keeping them together, and all the while doing what she could against the oncoming tide of Zerg. Faint ripples of air flickered in and out of the melee—the Dark Templar were as ready to fight as the rest of them.

Quickly surveying the battlefield, it came to light that the Zerg were showing no signs of letting up.

She directed her thoughts to the Executor, and he too had noticed. Aerial support was on its way.

_Thank the gods,_ she thought to herself, then focused inwardly. She had strength enough left for one more storm...

Scouts and Interceptors buzzed madly through the air like a swarm of angry wasps, their lasers burning through carapace and bone, turning monstrosities into pools of melted flesh and slag.

Heartened, the warriors pressed back, back until the very last savage Zerg collapsed into a puddle of blood.

There was silence as they slowly regained their senses; Dark and Khala Templar alike slowly drifted from one side to the other, standing behind their respected leaders. They were divided again.

Then Zeratul spoke, eyes locked with Tassadar and slightly weary with fading battle-rage. _We only wish to join._

Another pregnant silence, then Tassadar replied, _Dark One, you know I cannot trust you. The Conclave—_

_Has also driven you out, simply because you showed mercy to a species they believe to be mere animals. Do you not think that there are still more... misunderstandings... then they let on? Come. I shall tell you all the lies they have perpetrated... all the lives they have ruined. The_ true _story of the Dark Templar._

_I..._ Tassadar gazed at him, utterly bewildered. Then his eyes flared as he remembered— _What of the spy? What of the Terran female?_

If he were human, Zeratul probably would have rolled his eyes. _Ah. Yes. Him. He was probably sneaking around for no reason other to sneak. A fool, he is. I am glad you caught him. Now, as for the other question—_ He paused, tilting his head to one side and staring in just as much bewilderment as Tassadar had before. _...What Terran?_

"Okay, try this one." Zak traced letters on the bed with his finger.

Isha squinted. "H… A… Oh, I know! Hand!"

"Yep. Good job. Now, what's this?"

She leaned closer. "B… B-I-U… no… Um, could you do it again?"

"Sure. Watch closely."

"B-L-U-E. Blooey? Bloo… Blue!"

"Right on, kid. Now, just—"

She brushed his hand away. "Uh-uh. Your turn." She leaned against him, smiled impishly, and traced three letters.

"… You don't give up, do you?"

She nudged against him. "Come on, you can do it."

Zak sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why can't you just drop it?"

"Say it," she whispered, nibbling on his ear.

He jumped to his feet and bolted across the room, letting out an odd squeak as he did so. "Fine! Sex! Sex sex sex sex S-E-X sex! Are you happy now?!"

Isha stretched on the bed, faking a pout through a satisfied grin. "Oh, you can be so immature…"

Zak threw her a look of open-mouthed disbelief. "Me?! You're the one writing 'sex' all over the place!" He gestured wildly with his arms, adding emphasis to his words.

Isha giggled, then slunk up to him, her hands sliding up his chest. "You want it."

Her touch made him feel warm. Her crystal eyes were sucking him in again. She was right, he _did_ want it, he longed for it, he…

He shook himself. "Not right now. Later."

"Why not?" She pressed herself against him, knowing he couldn't hold out forever.

Inside him, his conscience was raging. _Priorities, dumbass! Remember your priorities! Don't you dare turn into a little sap now! You have to protect her!_

Zak drew back a step, holding his hands up defensively. "Dark Templar, remember? I gotta stay on high alert, here."

Isha flinched, casting her eyes down at the floor. She bit her lip, sighed, and sat cross-legged on the floor. "Jerk," she muttered under her breath.

"Hey, don't you start that! I'll make it up later, I just gotta…" He froze, suddenly feeling chilled. A creeping sensation filled his head, sliding over his mind like an oil slick.

"They're here."

When the Protoss stepped into the room, they found one terrified and one absolutely furious Terran. Isha was hiding by the bed and Zak stood a few feet out, hands balled into fists, a wild, almost deranged look in his cold eyes.

His voice was a snarl. "Get out."

_Terran,_ Tassadar began.

"No. _No._ You're not doing this to her." Zak jabbed a finger to the Dark Templar leader. "Murderers and torturers, all of them. Get him _out_ of here!"

_Terran!_ Tassadar said again, sharply. _Do you not see the guards? They will not hesitate to attack if he proves to be such as you think._

"He may not hurt her physically, but look at her! _Look_ at her!"

Zeratul had been peering at Isha curiously, trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with her. _Executor,_ he said, _that Terran has claws. ...And abnormal eyes,_ he added as Isha glanced up at him, petrified and sobbing.

Zak shifted to block his view. "You don't look at her. Don't even _look_ at her!"

_...Why? What do you think I am going to do?_

_Enough,_ Tassadar thundered. _Prelate. This Terran has been tortured by your kind; has endured the most degrading of acts of murder and rape. One of _yours _has done this to her._

Zeratul looked even more lost. _Murder? Rape?! My kind? I do not understand, Executor; how could we have done this to her? Despite what you believe, we do have a sense of honor—_

_Perhaps this will refresh your memory._ Tassadar drew one out and threw it at him.

_You're mine, my pet; you will always be mine—He dragged the knife through her, carving intricate symbols into her stomach..._

Zeratul reeled back. _By the Gods..._ He stepped forward, eyes locked on Isha, wide with shock.

Zak lunged.

The overbearing force of his will crushed anything that might have held him back. The Dark Templar was a threat. It had to be eliminated. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and his rage melted into a cold, focused calm.

He was a weapon. His purpose was to kill.

The Dark Templar quickly braced for an attack, throwing up a large, scaly arm in defense. Zak dove under it, knowing how strong Protoss were. One hit and he'd be down.

So don't get hit.

He jammed a fist home, hearing a crack as it hit under the alien's chin. He wasn't sure if it was the monster's neck or his own knuckles. Not that it mattered; he wouldn't have felt it anyway. He was a Ghost. Ghosts don't feel.

The blow wouldn't be enough to bring the Dark Templar down, but it bought him time. He noticed a glittering hilt on the alien's hip.

Bingo. In one swift, liquid movement, Zak grabbed the knife and sliced upwards, making a long, dark blue line on the alien's abdomen. The Protoss roared and threw a blow at him, and he barely avoided it.

One hit, and he'd be down. He couldn't afford to get hit.

Tassadar and his soldiers circled around him; his cold, dead eyes met the blue fire of the Executor's.

And he was down, the room spinning erratically. His head burned from the inside out.

_You are a great warrior, Terran, but you are a fool._

"NO!"

Without thinking Isha threw herself for him. "Leave him alone!"

The Executor's hands gripped her tightly, holding her effortlessly immobile. _Be still, child._

"No!" she cried again, and bit him. He flinched, one hand opening and pulling back to avoid her teeth as her claws stabbed at his other hand, which also loosened. She dove for Zak, grabbing his head. "Zak! Zak, please—"

Again she was dragged away. She yanked back, turned around—

—and met the emerald gaze of the Dark Templar.

With a whimper, she went very still, crystalline eyes wide in terror. He gazed at her, head tilted to one side in bewilderment, hands encompassing her shoulders.

_What are you?_ His voice was low and rough, barely reaching her mind through his own raised battle lust.

She couldn't answer, her heart pounding erratically. Her mouth was cottony-dry.

Then she was also torn away from him. Tassadar walked over to his chair and sat her down in it, one hand pressed firmly against her chest to keep her from rising, squatting down to look at her. _Terran, look at me. Listen._

"Y-You—"

_He is all right. He is not permanently damaged._

"Wh-why? Why did you _do_ that?" she sobbed. "He w-was just trying to protect me!"

_I am the commander. Both of you are guests; you will do as I say. Is that understood?_

"The Dark—"

_He will not hurt you._

"No, no, he'll just bring me back, he'll bring me back and—and—" She whimpered, near hysteria; her eyes kept jerking over to the Dark Templar, who was now mopping up the blood on his abdomen.

A deep sigh. _Sleep, then._

"No!"

_Sleep._

"No you won't make me you won't make me you won't—"

Zak crawled to his feet, his head still pounding. Barely able to focus, he swayed dangerously back and forth. He growled a curse and stumbled backwards.

He felt the eyes of the Protoss watching him. The soldiers, Tassadar…

And the Dark Templar. His fierce, green eyes were locked on him, waiting for him to make a move. A roaring blade of light came to life on his wrist.

_Calm yourself, Prelate. The Terran will not attack again._

Zak turned to the Executor, still stumbling around like a drunk. "Yeah?"

_Just look at yourself,_ Tassadar said.

Zak felt a leg collapse. He quickly leaned the other way. "Nnn… Where's Isha?"

_Asleep. She is unharmed._

He spat a curse—failed again.

_The Prelate and I must speak now. We shall leave you here._

The Protoss filed out of the room, the Dark Templar pausing to give Zak one last vengeful glare. Zak gladly returned it, making his way to the chair and supporting himself against it. Isha was out like a light.

"Sorry, kid," he muttered, waiting for his head to clear.

As the burning subsided, he became more and more certain of what he must do. He had failed again. Failed because he wasn't ready.

He shed the tunic, glad to be rid of it. His suit felt better, anyway. Without the black shell, he felt exposed, weak…

His gear needed work. The ash of Char had clogged some of the sensors, and he immediately set to work cleaning them.

As he worked, his hair kept falling into his eyes. It had gotten far too long for him, and probably would make putting his helmet on especially problematic. From one of his many pockets, he pulled out a razor. Locks of brown hair fell around him.

He could no longer afford to waste time. He could no longer afford to be human.

He had to be ready. He wouldn't fail again.

Before donning his helmet, he caught a glimpse of himself in a face of the Khaydarin crystal. His sharp, hawk-like face and disturbingly cold eyes were no longer hidden. It was the face of a killer. A cold, emotionless weapon.

_Welcome back, 27,_ he thought to himself as he pulled his helmet over his head.

Isha finally awoke, shaking. The Dark Templar and the Executor and Zak where was Zak Zak...

A feather-light touch on her shoulder. She turned, saw Zak, and bolted for him. "Zak, Zak I thought you were dead and the Dark Templar, the Dark Templar..."

He was wearing his helmet. She stopped immediately. "Z-Zak...?"

"It's okay, kid. Still me under here."

A lie. The Zak she knew was gone, too weak and unaware to do any good. But he could pretend, keep her happy. He didn't want her to panic.

He wasn't about to let her run away again.

She stepped forward nervously. "Why are you…?"

"Need to be ready. Can't take chances." The scrambler made his voice sound threatening and inhuman. He knew Isha hated it. For now, she'd just have to live with it.

She wouldn't like what was under the helmet, anyway.

He picked up one of the leftover fruits and tossed it to her. "Here. Eat."

"I don't understand... Tassadar will protect us; he'll—"

No. He wouldn't. He had brought the Dark Templar in; he had betrayed them. "Where will we go?"

"I don't know."

She flinched at the hoarse, machine-like voice. "Please, take off your—"

"No."

"Zak, _please_..."

"No. Don't ask me again."

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaking down her face. "What now?"

Zak reached out and touched her cheek. A meaningless gesture, but it would bring her comfort. "Don't cry, okay? I've got you covered." He peeled a bit of the skin off the fruit. "See? One of the sweet ones. You like sweet, right?"

She sobbed pathetically and nodded.

_I'm scared. Why is Zak acting like this? Why did Tassadar bring the Dark Templar here? Oh, God—_

"Don't be scared. Keep your head; it'll be all right." Zak wrapped his arms around her, knowing his touch would calm her. He could hear her thoughts clearly, now that he was focused and alert. A lot of things had become clear.

Like how he'd need to get her drug if he planned on taking care of her alone. He'd worry about that after she'd calmed down.

Isha sniffed. "I-I… I don't—"

"Shhh. I'm here. Now, eat."

Obediently Isha took the fruit in her mouth, but it tasted ashen to her. She wanted him to take off that mask; she wanted him to hold her and comfort her; not in the way he was doing now, with his body cold and stiff, as if he were dead. She wanted them to recline on the bed and forget everything that had happened.

But Zak wasn't there. He wasn't there. All that was left was a cold shell; she could feel that he had slipped into his weapon mode.

"Zak," she whispered, eating the rest of the fruit. She forced her heart to slow so he would stop trying to calm her down, took a deep breath, and stopped crying, wiping her tears away. "Take off the mask. _Please._ Let me see your face."

Could he? Behind the mask, he closed his eyes.

Two guards outside, neither of them paying much attention. One badgering the other about finding a suitable mate… At the moment, they were not a threat.

Zak inhaled slowly. "You asked for it."

His hands went up, undoing the connections that wired the helmet to the rest of his uniform. The mask slid up and away, revealing the freshly shaved head beneath. Scars crisscrossed his skull, mementos from the many strange operations and implants the Ghost Program had put him through. His face was cold and sharp, his icy, emotionless eyes without their usual cover of hair.

He didn't look like Zak anymore. He looked like a killer. A Ghost.

Isha staggered back, at a loss for words. "Z-Zak!"

"I told you."

"Why--_Why?_"

"Hair gets in the way."

"Khas damn it!" She cried. "You _know_ what I mean!"

"I can't afford to be weak any more." His cold, icy chips of eyes bored into hers, his scarred face impassive.

"No, Zak," she sobbed. "Please come back!"

She went up to him, shakily touching his face. He didn't move, didn't say anything. "Please. I want my Zak back."

She drew his face down and kissed him. His lips didn't move.

"Please, Zak!"

She hurt. Her anguish drove though him like a pike.

_Shut it out. Stay focused._

There was warmth where she touched him. She wanted him. He wanted her.

_Focus!_

Why did he protect her? Why did he want her? It didn't make sense. Nothing could come from it—she was barren. And what if… No, he couldn't look after two of them…

_Just stop feeling. Stop thinking. You served the Confederacy for years without question. That was pointless, too, wasn't it? This isn't any different. Just another job._

No, it was so much more than that…

_Emotion. Weakness. Lust. Unnecessary. Love does not exist._

He shoved Isha away. "Zak is dead."

She stumbled backwards and fell, staring up at him, terrified. "Zak…"

He squatted down in front of her. "Zak was a fluke. Some helpless little kid who should have died a long time ago."

"No, no, that's not true…"

"He was taken away from his mommy, and know what he did next time he saw her? He shot her in the head."

Tears were cascading down her cheeks. She sobbed uncontrollably. "No, no, please…"

"This is what I am, Isha. I'm a weapon. Zak was a mistake."

His words were tearing her up, but it was for the better. If she didn't love him, then he wouldn't be distracted.

A hollow smirk crossed his stoic face. "You hate me, don't you?"

Isha couldn't even look at him anymore. She couldn't speak.

Zak rose to his feet. "Hate me, Isha; it'll make things a lot easier."

With a final cry of agony, the part that was still human was crushed and silenced. . The Ghost had won.


	5. Chapter 5

_"I hate you!"_

Well of course you do, my pet. Of course you do.

Isha curled up into herself, her whole world twisting back into shadow and pain. Where she had finally—_finally_—seen hope and love, despair and hatred wrought. _Zak..._

She dimly heard him through her agony, his voice flat and cold. "We have to go now, Isha."

_No I don't want to go with you; I don't want to..._

Rough hands hauled her up. "Compose yourself. We're leaving."

"No..." she started to run, but he caught her and swung her back around sharply.

"Don't. Run. Again."

"Get away from me!" She kicked out at him. He caught her foot and twisted it, throwing her to the ground, and then hauled her back up.

She shrunk away from him, sobbing wildly. Zak—rather, Operative 27—threw her the pants and t-shirt she had worn before. "Put these on. You won't be able to run in that."

She shook her head, clutching at the robe. He waited a moment before coming for her, pulling the robe up and away in the same manner her Master had done countless times over. Tossing it away, he forced on the shirt and pants. "Do I have to put your shoes on, too, or will you do that yourself?"

Isha shook her head miserably and slowly pulled them on.

"Good. Now let's go."

"No..."

He jammed his helmet over his head. "Don't pull this shit with me. We're outta here."

Before Isha could protest, he picked her up and began walking out of the room. She pounded furiously on his back.

"PUT ME DOWN LET ME GO I HATE YOU I FUCKING HATE YOU PUT ME DOWN DAMMIT!"

"You're wasting energy. I will shut you up if I have to."

She slipped into a sulking silence. Her thoughts still burned with hatred and betrayal.

The guards were slightly surprised when he stepped out of the Executor's quarters in full gear. They activated their blades, demanding he go back inside willingly or in pieces.

"We're not causing trouble. We're leaving."

_You are a prisoner of war, Terran! You cannot come and go as you please! Comply or be cut down!_

Zak walked calmly past them. "Really? Why don't you take that up with the Executor?"

He left the Zealots in stunned silence.

Next stop: medical bay. The red-eyed healer was utterly shocked, but after the Ghost explained that he could pull a trigger faster than help would arrive, the Protoss quickly presented him with food, water, and a diluted solution of _aisine_.

The shuttle hangar wasn't too difficult to find. He crept aboard one, Isha reluctantly in tow, and tucked both of them away in a corner. He tapped his belt, vanishing from view.

"Isha. Cloak."

She stared bewildered at him, or rather where she guessed he was.

"You can do it. Focus."

Her voice was cold. "No."

"No?"

"Not for you."

"Dammit, Isha…"

Something brushed against the back of his mind. Protoss.

"They're coming."

She balled herself up and pulled her knees into her chest, staring defiantly at the floor. "So?"

"Isha, they'll kill you!"

"Don't care."

"Well, I do," he hissed, tightly gripping her shoulder. "So you'd better do what I tell you. I'm not gonna let them get you. Got it?"

"Oh," she mocked. "So you _do_ care for me. You know, you should make up your mind. It's very confusing."

"Isha—"

Closer.

"I don't care if I die. I don't care if _you_ care. You're just a Ghost, remember? Start acting like one."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," he growled. "You are the objective. Cloak."

"You can't make me."

"Cloak!"

The hatch whirred, slowly opening. Two foot soldiers and a massive, spider-like machine began climbing up the ramp.

The first soldier's eyes fell on Isha. _What? Terran?_

Bang. A hole appeared in his inhuman skull. There was a wisp of light and a sudden rush of energy, and the empty body fell with a thud.

He fired again, but the shot was repelled by a wall of lightning. The other warrior had activated his shields. Damn.

He focused his thoughts. _Cloak, Isha. Cloak and get out of here._

The remaining warrior was heading for her, blades drawn. The Ghost slid his rifle into its harness, wondering if he cold get close enough for his knife to penetrate the shield.

The Protoss was poised to strike. Without hesitation, the Ghost whipped out his knife and lunged.

Isha didn't move, even as the blade hovered above her face. She didn't move as 27 tussled with the alien, and the Dragoon opened its hatch...

Didn't move as blood—human blood—splattered the floor.

STOP.

All movement halted immediately, as if poured with thick molasses. There was a sudden, swift blur, and 27 decloaked, hanging in the air by one massive clawed hand wrapped around his throat.

"No," she whispered. "No, wait..."

_I take you in,_ Tassadar growled, his eyes flaming deep blue, _I let you use my personal quarters as a hide-out... I save you from yourselves... from other Protoss... and this is how you repay me?_

"No, stop please—" 27—no, Zak—was gurgling, lashing out against him, trying to loosen his hold. Tassadar ignored all attempts to escape, his eyes narrowing to furious slits.

"NO! STOP!" Isha lunged for him, trying to pry him off. "Please, no, no don't... don't kill him..."

_He betrayed me he should die it's all a game to him he betrayed me—_

"Please..."

"You b-brought them here," he wheezed, barely able to breathe. "You b-b-broug-ght th-those b-bas-s-stards h-h-here!"

Tassadar glared, them threw him to the ground. He coughed convulsively, feeling blood in his mouth.

_Zeratul and his brethren have no affiliation with Ulrejaz. Had you been less bull-headed, Terran, you would have known this. Your own stupidity has taken a life. You killed one of my warriors, Terran—a comrade and a brother._

He coughed again. "I was under the impression that warriors were supposed to die."

_Then you shall follow the path you have chosen!_ Tassadar let loose a burst of energy, hurling the Terran against a wall. There was a sickening crack, and the man cried out in pain. He prepared to strike again. However, a small cry and a tugging on his robes stopped him.

_Child…_

"Don't hurt him anymore."

_He has become an enemy. I can no longer trust him._

"Please."

The Executor lowered his head in a sigh. _Child, I cannot keep him here. He is too dangerous…_

Isha pressed her tear-streaked face into his robes. "Please…"

The mighty alien closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. He put a hand on Isha's head. _I shall spare you both, but you must leave. I will prepare this Shuttle for you; it shall take you close to the nearest Terran encampment. What you chose to do from there is up to you._

With that, he was gone. The injured warrior kneeled before his fallen comrade, muttering what must have been some sort of last rites. The Dragoon stood poised, ready to stop any further aggression on Isha's or Zak's part.

The beaten assassin stirred, moaned weakly, and pulled himself shakily to his feet. He was hurt in half a dozen places, but he'd had worse. He was trained to take heavy hits. Besides, his wounds would eventually heal.

What mattered was the objective.

"Isha… you okay?"

"You ruined everything."

She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, sliding down it until she was a small ball at the base of it. "We were safe here," she cried at him. "We were safe. We were happy! And you ruined it. I _hate_ you."

He just looked at her, his face a black mask. With a sudden cry of rage she lunged, ripping it off of him. Too injured to do anything about it, he merely jerked, then stepped forward to take it.

Isha staggered away. "Tassadar was a friend," she sobbed. "He was a friend, and you ruined it. You ruined everything. You should have just let me die on Mar Sara—you should have let me be taken away by my Master that day!"

She tossed the mask aside, hands clenched so tightly her claws stabbed through her flesh.

"I'm better off with _him_."

The Zealot dragged his comrade back down the ramp, the Dragoon following him. Isha remained where she was, glaring furiously at the wounded Ghost.

The Shuttle closed its hatch and lifted into the air.

"You aren't going back," he said flatly. His cold eyes darted to the small trickles of blood coming from her fists. "Your hands. Let me see them."

"No."

"That was an order." He took a step forward, reached out, and forced her palms open, being as firm as he could without causing harm. She shrieked and struggled against him, her sharp nails threatening to tear through his gloves and puncture his skin, but he ignored it. He dipped his finger in the small bottle of alcohol, then dabbed carefully on her wounds. The liquor doubled as a disinfectant. Then, with a snap of the knife, he cut off two pieces of cloth from the bottom of her shirt. It was too long for her, anyway. Her curses continued as he wrapped the strips of fabric around her bloodied hands.

"There. Done." He limped to the nearest wall and leaned with his shoulder against it, his back facing her.

Weakness. Failure. He gave it everything he had, and it still all tumbled down in the end.

He repeated the dabbing procedure on his own wounds. The larger cuts, such as the one on his arm, courtesy of the Zealot, were sewed up by needle and thread. If it hurt, he couldn't feel it. He couldn't feel anything.

Destruction. Killing. It was all he was good for. He was a fool to think he could actually protect her, save her… Eventually, it would just destroy her.

But he had to try.

Isha glared at him from behind his back, hands shaking. Taking a step forward, she fumbled at his belt.

He whirled, knocking her hands away. "What are you doing?"

"My drug," she spat. "I need it."

Isha glared up at him, determination in her crystalline eyes.

It was true—the drug was necessary to her survival. Without another glance at her, he dug the vial of _aisine_ and a syringe out of a pouch.

"Arm," he grunted as he prepared the appropriate dosage.

With a glare powerful enough to kill, she rolled up a sleeve and held out her arm. He dabbed a bit of alcohol on her exposed shoulder and wiped it dry with the edge of her sleeve. Far from perfect sanitation, but it was better than nothing.

"From now on, you ask. I don't want you getting an infection or overdosing."

The needle slid into her flesh.

Isha relaxed, letting the _aisine_ flood through her veins, bringing liquid warmth to her body. She closed her eyes in ecstasy.

She needed it. She wanted it.

Zak had it.

He was just like her Master. He had her drug, therefore she couldn't leave him. And how long had it taken to break free of that sadistic Dark Templar? She let in a deep breath, shuddering, letting fresh tears cascade down her face.

_He's just like him. Give me hope, then take it away._

The Shuttle shivered as if it could feel her pain, but really it was the backlash of its thrusters as it landed.

The door opened.

_No, Isha, I'm not him, I'm not your master, I'm doing this all for you…_

He forced the thoughts from his mind. Emotion was weakness. He picked up his helmet and jammed it on, listening for signals and watching the readouts.

There was a Terran base close by. Raynor's, by the sound of it. Just six kilometers northeast.

He stepped out into the swirling ash of Char. Isha trailed silently behind him.

"Here, put this on," he said as he removed the mask. "I know you don't like it, but it'll cover your eyes and filter the air. You don't wanna breathe too much of this shit."

"Don't want to."

"Now."

"I don't want—"

He jammed it over her head. She twitched, but didn't move. Weird readouts began scrolling across her vision; she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Don't close your eyes."

"It makes me dizzy."

"Don't close your eyes," he said again, in his flat monotone. She did as she was told.

Zak began to walk across the landscape, kicking up chalky ash as he did. Isha trailed behind him, trying not to fall over with the various readouts and scans humming through her sight and in her ears.

They walked.

And walked.

"Zak..."

They kept walking.

And kept walking.

Isha stopped, breathing hard. "Zak, I can't..."

"We're there." He pointed to small campfire lights in the near distance; she slumped with relief.

So they walked.

And finally entered the camp.

Raynor came up to them immediately, having seen them in the barren landscape as they drew near. "Zak? ..._Isha?_"

Zak glanced up at the rapidly approaching armored hulk. "Hello, Captain," he said almost sarcastically. He attempted to salute, but was overcome by a very strong, very sudden, and very long coughing fit. "Damn ash…"

Raynor's eyes were wide behind the polarized face shield. "I thought you were dead!"

"Feeling's mutual."

"What the hell _happened_ out there?"

"Same thing that happened to you."

"I don't… wait… _Protoss?!_"

"No, Leprechauns." Zak doubled over in another coughing fit.

Under the armor, Zak could tell Raynor was rolling his eyes. "Christ, you know you ain't supposed to breathe unfiltered air here!"

"Didn't have much of a choice." He gestured in Isha's direction. "Could we go inside, now? She wants to take that helmet off."

With an exaggerated sigh, the captain led them to the nearest shelter. "You show up out of the blue and immediately start askin' favors… seriously, I don't know why I put up with you people…"

Zak lifted Isha off the ground. "C'mon, I'll carry you the rest of the way."

She was too tired to protest. He wished he could have carried her the whole way, but that would have been impossible. At least they'd made it.

"You guys rest up a bit, then you and I need to have a serious talk, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

A bunk. Zak sat Isha down on it, coughing a little bit. "You can take the helmet off, now."

Despite her exhaustion, she whipped it off immediately. He had to stop her from throwing it against the floor. More coughing. Would it ever go away? Dust and gas was in his ears and mouth and nose and under his eyelids and probably had somehow made its way up his ass… At least his eyes were fake—the hot ash hadn't burned them.

He held up his canteen, which the red-eyed healer had so graciously filled with clean water. "Drink."

"I don't want—"

"Drink. Now."

He forced the canteen past her lips; she very reluctantly took a swallow. It eased her throat, so she took another sip, then turned her head away, not willing to look at him. Pain and betrayal...

"So what's goin on?" she heard Zak ask Raynor.

The Captain sighed. "Well, we're stuck here. Ships are gone... Protoss destroyed the infected ones, and the only uninfected one was the _Hyperion,_ which had to do an emergency jump. Hopefully it got out alive. We've been fighting Zerg left and right, an' now the Protoss are also planetside... I've been tracking them for a while now; trying to talk to their leader. No such luck. They've been runnin' all over the place; I can't catch them sittin' still..."

Zak grunted and took a long draft from the canteen himself, then gave the rest of it to Isha, who promptly put it down. She was too tired.

Raynor frowned at her. "You okay, darlin'?"

"No," she whispered, turning away.

"She's fine," Zak said shortly.

"Piss off," Isha snapped at him, and curled up on the bunk.

"Ouch," Raynor muttered. "I'm, er, not gonna get into this one..."

Zak couldn't decide whether to glare at Isha or Raynor, so he chose a spot on the wall as his victim.

Raynor flipped up his visor and scratched his head absently. "Anyway, what happened out there?"

"It's complicated."

"Yeah? Try me."

Zak's eyes remained glued to the wall. He recounted in brief his experiences with the Protoss, explaining what he'd learned about Tassadar, their technology, the Dark Templar…

"Huh… They've got a whole internal conflict goin' and everything…" Raynor said thoughtfully. "Well, at least they aren't our enemies. The Zerg are bad enough…" He headed for the door.

"Oh, just one more question."

"What?" Zak snapped, irritated.

"When the hell did you go bald?"

Zak tore his eyes from the wall, their full fury directed at the captain.

The bearded man jumped in his combat armor. He held up his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I'm goin', don't get so touchy about it! Jeez!"

Zak's glare remained fixed on the door until he was certain the captain was long gone. He relaxed slightly, then turned to Isha. She was asleep, or at least doing a damn near prefect job of faking it. She looked so… exposed. Vulnerable. There was nothing between her and the outside world. It made him uncomfortable. He couldn't just leave her alone like that, especially after what he'd done. He'd personally made her miserable. He'd been a failure at everything, he'd made all the wrong choices, he hadn't been strong enough…

Carefully and soundlessly, he slipped into the bunk next to her, lightly nestling her sleeping form in his arms. She was safe, now. Nothing could get her. Everything was okay. He felt calm… warm…

_Don't be a fool. Emotion is weakness._

Zak drifted into a light doze, mentally ordering his conscience to shut the fuck up.

Isha kicked him off the bed when she realized he was there several hours later.

He landed with a _thunk_ on the ground, rolled to all fours and sprung up, ready for anything. When he saw her, he blinked and relaxed. "Oh..."

"What the fuck do you think _you're_ doing?" she spat. "Oh, you think you're gonna get some nice sex from me after you ruined everything? Think again, hot shot."

She lunged to her feet and stalked towards the tent entrance.

At first, he was dumbfounded. He didn't understand… he'd done everything for her, everything he hoped was in her best interest, he'd never intentionally tried to hurt her…

His puzzlement evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. He felt rage brewing deep within his chest. Why didn't she get it? How many times had he faced death for her? How many times had he saved her life? How could she believe, after all he'd done for her, that all he cared about was sex?

Hell, it was her fault he'd even _considered_ it!

She had made him _weak_!

He grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around, bringing them face to face. "Let's make one thing clear," he snarled from behind bared teeth. "Do you think I stuck my ass in the line of fire for you just for _sex_?! _You_ were the one always asking for it! Just because it's the only thing that matters to _you_ doesn't mean it's what _I_ care about!"

He pulled her close, his machine-gray eyes inches away from hers. His voice was a harsh whisper. "In case you haven't figured it out by now, _you_ are the only thing that matters to me, and I don't give a _damn_ whether I get laid or not. Got it?"

He released his hold. "Now, you can go do whatever the hell you want, but I'm not letting you out of my sight. You aren't running again."

She was shaking wildly, terrified of his savagery, and when he shoved her back she stumbled and nearly fell.

Her fear changed very suddenly to a rage that matched his. "Well, excuse me," she spat. "Here I was thinking you were just a machine. Make up your Khasdamned mind, will you? You love me, you don't. You love me, you don't. You told me to hate you, so Zak my dear? I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

She slashed at him with her claws, and he leaped back, barely avoiding getting disemboweled as they grazed dangerously close to his abdomen. She followed up with a kick at his head, to which he attempted to grab, then a low cut near the inside of the knee. He again barely avoided a crushed knee, and, mad with anguish, she turned and bolted out of the tent.

"I hate you," she sobbed, staggering and falling on her knees in the rocks, ash making her choke, "I hate you. I _hate_ you."

Zak forced himself to go numb. His emotions had gotten Isha dangerously close to running again. Besides, he had a good idea of how he'd feel.

He'd feel like his mother had felt when he'd held the gun to her head.

_"Twenty-seven! Don't hesitate! You have orders! Follow them!"_

_"Zachary, please, I'm your mother! I love you!"_

_Bullshit,_ he thought to himself. She'd given him up. She'd let them take him without a fight. She'd offered him to them. She couldn't accept that her son was a freak. She'd thought it was for the better. She wanted to be rid of him.

She didn't expect her little boy to grow up to be a killer. She never expected him to lose all sense of humanity. She never thought her last look at him would be from the other end of a pistol.

And now, Isha was holding the gun to _his_ head, and the Ghost was egging her on.

It's for the better. Just shut it out. Emotion only gets in the way. If Isha had no feelings for him, then she wouldn't put herself in danger. She wouldn't distract him. Things would be easier that way.

He was a Ghost; without a purpose, he was nothing. Isha's safety was his purpose, and he would achieve his goal by any means necessary. If it meant breaking her heart, then so be it.

He walked outside, breathing as little as possible to avoid the sting of the ash, and scooped Isha up, looping his arms around her in a fashion that prevented her from tearing open an artery. She kicked and screamed, further declaring her hatred for him.

"You're wasting energy," he stated flatly, and sat her back down on the bunk. Immediately he pulled out a first aid kit, which had been conveniently left on the floor, and cleaned her scraped knees.

"I hate you, you miserable fucking—"

"Yeah, I know. Psychic, remember? Funny you should wait until now to start following orders…" He taped strips of gauze over her wounds. "Let's try some new ones: don't go outside without a filter, stop finding new and exciting ways to injure yourself, and don't. Run. Away."

"I can do whatever I want," she snapped.

"No. You can't."

"You—"

"I will." His ice-cold eyes bored into hers. "And if you run again I'll tie you to the bunk again."

Her own eyes went wide. "You promised no more straps—!"

He didn't move, staring at her.

Tears of fury trickled down her face. She gazed at the floor, and her shoulders slumped, defeated.

Zak felt his innards painfully twisting. He hated seeing Isha like this, hated doing this to her, wanted to hold her and comfort her, wanted to tell her everything was okay…

He put a hand gently on her shoulder, letting a small crack form in his wall of apathy. "Look, Isha, I just…"

"Hey, baldy! You're Zak, right?"

With a growl, he cast a glare at the intruder. An unknown technician stood in the doorway, an air filer covering the bottom half of his face.

"What do you want?"

"The Cap'n says—"

"Yeah, I know." He grudgingly got up. Why did they always wait until the most inconvenient moment? He tucked his helmet under his arm. "Give me a minute."

The technician mumbled something, his thoughts alerting Zak that he was once again drawing attention to his lack of hair, and stood outside.

Zak dug through the pouches of his belt, removing two pieces of fruit and, after a moment of hesitation, the vial of _aisine_ and a clean syringe.

"You stay here and eat something, okay? If you absolutely have to take a dose while I'm gone, you know what to do. Just disinfect everything first and don't overdose. This is all I have, so try to save it."

Isha slightly raised her head, confusion and bitterness showing through the mass of tears and hair that coated her face. There was an underlying lust for her drug in her thoughts.

He didn't want to leave her, not even for five minutes, especially with the drug. But, somehow, it felt like he was apologizing. This way, she could at least have some control.

This way, he wasn't her master.

He looked her in the eye again. "This is an exercise in trust. Get into trouble, and you know what'll happen." With that, the mask went over his face, and he followed the technician to HQ.

She waited until he was gone. She waited until there were no more footsteps in the wind. Then she stabbed herself with needle, not bothering to disinfect anything. It was the only pleasure-inducing thing she had, and she was going to take full control of it.

She shivered, clenching her eyes shut as warmth flooded her body and mind, pressing the trigger until the heat began to get more intense, then pulling it out.

The food didn't appeal to her. She stared at the floor, listless, destroyed.

Nothing mattered. Isha felt as if there was an empty space where her heart had been.

Twice. She had fallen for him, and he had betrayed her twice.

_It won't happen again._

One by one, she found each emotion in her and shut it down, becoming a cold, lifeless shell.

When he came back, he found her sitting on the edge of the bunk. He felt nothing from her. There was nothing to feel.

Zak could only stare. _No…_ This wasn't what he had intended. Not at all. The Ghost began to drag him under again. He struggled against the machine, but it was stronger. Smarter. Better.

_No! Isha! Please, this isn't how I wanted it to happen! This isn't how it's supposed to be!_

_Emotion is weakness. Even she realizes that now. You were a fool to try to love her. You are a weapon. You cannot love._

_You're wrong! I love her! She loves me!_

_Not anymore._

He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he had silenced the man. He was a machine.

"I told you to eat."

Isha didn't look at him. "Not hungry."

"You didn't take precautions with the needle, either."

"Don't care."

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in his steely eyes, dimly remembering how the same had been done to him a thousand times. "Your survival is the objective. You will learn to follow orders."

_What are you doing?! Stop! She's not you!_

He ignored the pathetic screaming in his head. "Until you do as you are told, you will be punished."

"So? It's not like it matters." She was looking down at the floor. Her face, her eyes, her thoughts were all empty. Cold. Dead.

_No, Isha! You matter! You mean more than anything else! Please!_

_Shut up,_ the Ghost muttered inwardly. He began securing strands of rope to the bunk.

_I'm not gonna shut up! Look what you're doing to her! You aren't protecting her; you're just turning her into you!_

"Shut up," he muttered aloud as he tied a knot around Isha's wrist.

_She doesn't want you! She hates you!_

"Emotion does not matter. Her survival will be insured by any means necessary."

_What's the point in keeping her alive?! She doesn't even want to live anymore!_

"Shut up!" He gripped the side of the bunk, his teeth bared, roaring with fury. "I'm stronger than you! You are nothing! You died years ago!"

_And you died with the Confederacy, you asshole! Your purpose is gone!_

"ISHA IS MY PURPOSE! SHE IS THE OBJECTIVE! YOU WON'T GET IN MY WAY!"

By now, neither man nor machine had control over the body. It lay convulsing miserably on the floor, clutching its head, twisting itself into a fetal curl.

_Sorry, buddy. She's my purpose, too._

_You are too weak. You are worthless._

_Not to her._

The body rose slowly. It was sobbing, shaking. With shuddering hands, it untied the knots. When it spoke, its voice was soft and trembling, barely audible above its own miserable sobs.

"Isha, I'm so sorry I did this to you. I never meant to betray you. I was trying to keep you safe, Isha. I fucked up. It's my fault. Everything's my fault."

He embraced her, more passionately than he'd ever held her before. His tears fell onto her strangely pale skin, utterly unnoted by her. She was dead to him. He had killed her.

"I came back for you, Isha. I came back. Just try to come back for me, okay? Come back before I fall again. I don't want to be a number. I don't want you to be like me."

It was done. It was over. He had failed. In his obsession to succeed for her, in all he'd tried to do to keep her safe, he had failed. The man wasn't enough. The weapon wasn't enough.

"Don't be like me. Don't die the way I did."

She was gone, empty. Empty like he had been… until he had found her. She had saved him, and now he could never repay her. The only thing that ever mattered, and it was gone. He was too late to help her.

But he could still try.

He brushed the hair out of her face, desperate hope piercing through his cold, mechanical eyes.

"I never said I didn't love you."

Isha didn't look at him.

"No. You were right."

"No, please, Isha..."

"Emotion is a weakness. I fell for you twice. It was a mistake. I won't do it again."

"Isha…"

She still wasn't looking at him. She still didn't respond to his touch.

"Isha, there's some things about me I never told you. I…" He gulped. "It's nothing compared to what you went through, but my whole life has been spent turning me into the perfect soldier. I wasn't _allowed_ to feel. Hell, they even put me through _brain surgery_ to try and beat it out of me. The Confederacy was everything. Nothing else mattered. I don't know how I ever got out…"

He put his hand under her chin, gently this time. "When I found you, I didn't know how to react. I started feeling again. My brain was rewired so many times that all of a sudden you and the Confederacy switched places. You became my purpose, my only reason to live."

Through his tears, something he wasn't supposed to have, a smile began to form—a smile that, according to the Program, wasn't supposed to exist. But it did. The Program no longer existed—what were they going to do about it? Go fck themselves, that's what they were going to do.

"Emotion isn't weakness, Isha. That's just another one of the lies they told me. You proved them wrong. Just because I fell for it doesn't mean you have to."

To prove his point, he leaned in, pulled her chin up the rest of the way, and kissed her. 

He felt stronger than he'd ever felt before.

A tremor went through her body.

_No. I won't fall for you again..._

Zak cradled the back of her head, deepening the kiss. She tried to pull away, but it was a halfhearted attempt at best.

_I won't be betrayed a third time..._

He pressed her closer, arms wrapping around her body.

_I won't..._

Won't what? She had forgotten what she was trying to not do. Instead, her arms crept up to rest on his shoulders. She loved him, she...

_No, you idiot, not again! He'll only betray you again!_

Their lips parted, but only to breathe. Then they were together again.

_He'll betray you..._

_Oh..._ Isha pressed her face into his chest, holding on with all she was worth. _...shut up._

She felt as if a flower was blooming inside of her. Feeling raced across each of her limbs; her mind burned.

"Zak," she whispered hoarsely.

"Not again, Zak. Please. Not again."

"I'll never betray you," he breathed softly. "Never again."

"Zak…"

He finally understood. Deep within his mind, the Ghost also understood, and silently agreed with him. Isha was more than a body. The soul—a concept the Ghost was still trying to grasp—needed nurturing, too.

While Zak reeled in his own pleasure, his other half looked into Isha's mind, seeking out her wants, finding exactly how to best please her. Zak's motions were soon being guided perfectly, every part of him passionately devoted to Isha's desire. Where to touch, what to say, how to kiss—it was executed flawlessly, his own emotion and desire fueling a growing fire. His two sides had joined, and both had the same goal.

He loved Isha. It was time to prove it, for once and for all.

"Zak..." she gasped, clutching his shoulders again. Perfection! Every movement was perfection.

"_Zak!_"

"Shhh..." he crooned, his hands sliding over her body, lighting places with a fire she didn't know existed. Their bodies moved together in a single, surging beat. "I love you."

She squeezed her eyes shut, gasping; he covered her mouth with his, tasting her tears of relief and release.

"Never—"

"—again," he breathed, nibbling her ear the same way she had that day on Tassadar's ship. "Never again."

They rose together—

—and relaxed, Zak covering her body, making sure she couldn't leave him again. Isha hugged him tightly, panting hard.

Her voice was a whisper. "Wow..."

He breathed deeply and evenly, the corner of his mouth tugged up in a lopsided grin. He had saved her. She was beautiful again, not the pathetic, wounded animal that he had almost turned her into.

For once, he had succeeded. He'd done something right for her for a change. The Ghost retreated to the back of his mind, fulfilled in its purpose.

"Satisfied?"

"Wow," she repeated, still breathless from shock.

He sighed, his crooked smile leaving him for a moment. He gently stroked the side of her face. "I'm sorry about before. I messed things up pretty bad, didn't I?"

"Yeah," she muttered. "You did."

He flinched and held her tighter, shifting so she was pinned beneath him even more. But it made her feel safe; when her Master had pressed her to the bed like this he almost crushed her every time, and she had never slept when they were like that for fear of waking up to more agony. This was...

"I'm glad," Zak murmured, kissing her lightly. She ran her hands over his shoulders again, tracing designs in his cooling sweat. She felt... alive. Awake and alive. Even if the physical part of their love was over for the moment, her whole body still thrummed with pleasure and sensation.

"So..." Isha whispered, nudging him. "What did Raynor have to say?"

Zak felt himself cringe again. Raynor's words—and his thoughts—had all been bad news. The ships, the Zerg, this whole shebang with the Queen of Blades… He hadn't gotten just what the captain had told him, he'd gotten everything.

Including the dreams, the emotion, the pain…

"It's not pretty," he began, glancing away.

Isha cocked her head and bit her lip, her brows furrowed as she was wrestling with her curiosity. Zak didn't need to be a psychic to tell her curiosity was winning. It was one of the things he liked about her. It could be annoying at times, but for the most part it was… cute. One of the few fragments of innocence that remained, even after her "master" had done all he could to shatter it.

He hated having nothing to give her but bad news. They were constantly being torn between hope and despair in some maddened game of tug-of-war, and he knew it was taking a toll on her. It was taking a toll on both of them.

Then again, it was war. Wars tended to do that, regardless of the circumstances.

Besides, he couldn't resist that face.

He took a deep breath, then cut to the chase. "We're stranded. The whole _crew_ down here is stranded. A few ships managed to escape, but nobody's sure where the hell they are right now, or even if they _are_ still around. So that leaves Raynor and his boys to play tag with the Zerg. They've been holding out so far, but the odds aren't exactly in their favor…" He stopped, unable to say more. He couldn't tell her the rest. He couldn't let her know that there was a very real chance that they might never get off Char alive.

He couldn't tell her what had happened to the Lieutenant. Not even Raynor could talk about it—out loud, anyway.

Most of all, he couldn't tell her what they were now up against. He couldn't tell her that one day they might all wake up dead… or worse. The fate that had befallen Sarah Kerrigan could easily become his own. He knew, from his previous encounters with the Zerg, that they were attracted to telepaths. They might come after him, and then he'd become one of them…

No, he convinced himself. They _would_ get out alive. He wasn't going to let them get him, and they wouldn't get Isha, either.

NOTHING would get Isha. He wouldn't let them.

Isha clutched him tightly, and his arms went around her. "Hey. They won't get you."

"I'm worried about _you!_" She snuggled against him, pressing her face to his shoulder. "What will happen to _you?_"

"Nothing will happen to me. I'm going to stay right here... with you. Where I belong."

Warmth flooded her gut. "But... I..."

He kissed her. "We'll be all right, okay?"

She nodded. "If you say so."

The next few days were spent in a monotonous trend of finding mushrooms, making sure you didn' t fall into hot craters, and trying to fix the one shuttle they were gathered around. Raynor himself had gone watching the Protoss, "tracking" them as he would say, and every so often would come back to get some more rations, then disappear again.

Zak still didn't let her outside much, but this time it was out of concern, not out of duty. The Marines needed to work, therefore they needed the rebreathers, therefore there wasn't enough, therefore she stayed inside.

It was a boring routine... until the cry went up:

"ZERG!"

Zak's head jerked up from a rifle he'd been repairing. He felt a growing, throbbing pulse in the back of his head… a pulse that was all too familiar.

"ZERG!" The lookout took the word right out of his mouth.

They had been preparing to leave camp when the attack hit; Raynor had given the order to move out just minutes earlier. The hideous, twisted creatures were roaring across the ash-covered plains with incredible speed, their minds knitted into one overpowering consciousness.

KILL THE TERRANS. KILL THE PROTOSS. KILL ALL WHO OPPOSE THE WILL OF THE SWARM.

The thoughts made Zak's stomach turn, and for a brief moment he thought he might throw up. He forced himself into combat mode, and hastily shed the sickness within him. He thrust the weapon he'd been working on into the hands of a man standing nearby, and in the same slick motion readied his own.

_"Everybody to the Dropship!"_ the commlink buzzed. The ragtag group of refugees was quick to obey, and soon they formed around the makeshift fortress, weapons at the ready.

Zak scanned the crowd. A terrified Isha stood huddled in a group of unarmed medics and technicians within the shuttle's ravaged hull. She was sobbing hysterically, choking on a combination of ash and tears. As soon as she saw him, she bolted towards him, clinging to him desperately.

"Zak, Zak, please, don't—"

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her and prying her off at the same time. "Shhh, hey, relax, okay? You're safest here."

Her watery eyes stared up at him. Her lips trembled. "But…"

He put his hand on her head, warmth seeping through the cold shell of his combat mentality. "I'll be right outside. Can't kick ass from inside here, can I?"

She managed a weak smile and sniffed. "Oh… okay."

"I'll be back before you know it. Trust me." With that, he stepped outside. The Zerg were almost upon them now, and the first shots rang out above the roar of the oncoming assault.

Zak pointed his rifle at the nearest monster and fired. It hit the ground and was quickly trampled by the rest of its kind. Without pausing to savor the victory, he moved his gun to the next… and the next… and the next…

He was no longer consciously engaged in the fighting. Instinct had taken over, and he automatically obeyed orders and picked out new targets.

The men and women of Raynor's crew were giving it their all… but it soon became apparent that it was not enough.

The Zerg were upon them.

Bone, metal, flesh, and plastic all collided with a sickening crunch. Men and Zerg were going down left and right. The flyers—Mutalisks, they were called—went straight for the kill, spitting out great globs of acid aimed at the downed Dropship.

Isha was in the Dropship.

With a curse, Zak slipped through the chaos, winding through the panicked crowd until he found Isha. She ran over to cling to him again.

"Get down," he snapped, and protectively curled around her, focused completely keeping her safe. Holes had begun to appear in the metal ceiling above them, and he pointed his weapon upwards, shooting whatever became visible through the gaps. Acidic ooze dripped down from the flesh of a wounded Mutalisk, and a tiny drop fell on his back. It stung like hell, but it wasn't enough to cause major damage. He shoved the pain aside, his gun firing and firing at the hellish creatures that were peeling the shuttle open like a giant piece of fruit.

Raynor's voice sounded over the commlink. Protoss. Protoss were coming. Don't shoot at them.

Zak blinked. What?

And then, with a flash of golden armor and blue lightning, the Protoss arrived.

They were pushing the Zerg back.

Isha didn't keep track of the fighting. All she knew was everything was chaos... blood and bits of people and alien flew everywhere; the ash-choked air was also filled with screams and death cries, blood and body parts... Isha squeezed her eyes shut, willing everything to end...

At last the fighting stopped, and smoothly the Protoss made a ring around the fallen dropship as the Terrans began going through their supplies. Isha felt Zak shift around, hiding her, but she leaned to one side.

Tassadar.

It was Tassadar.

And with him was the Dark Templar. Isha squeaked, hiding again, but Tassadar had already looked over at them. He moved to speak with Raynor, who flatly refused to do something, and then they began to dig.

Zak was silent, coming slowly out of a post-combat haze. He forced himself to breathe slowly to make his body return to normal. Alive. Isha was alive. He was alive.

Protoss. All around them. What were they doing here? Not attacking, no… helping. Allies.

"Zak?" he heard Isha whisper quietly. "Shouldn't you tell Tassadar you're sorry?"

He was going to say something to her, but one look at her face and…

Damn.

He slowly rose to his feet and, with a noticeably reluctant step, made his way over to the three commanders. Raynor, Tassadar, the Dark Templar leader… All standing together, but facing away from each other, independently guiding their troops. It was an odd sight.

Zak stood motionless until he caught Tassadar's eye. He said nothing, and neither did the alien. There was a brief mental connection—regret, understanding, apology, acceptance—and then both turned away. It was enough.

Raynor clapped his hands together, reaching a decision. "Okay, let's pack up and get outta here," he said. He gestured to one of his men, they spoke briefly, and then everything was being loaded up and moved out.

Zak was back by Isha, a rebreather in his hand.

She scampered up to him. "Did you apologize?"

"Yeah," he responded flatly. He shoved the filter into her hands. "Here. We're gonna be marching. Put this on."

She turned it over hesitantly. "I thought they didn't have enough. Where did you...?" Her eyes grew wide with realization. "Zak!"

"Just take it."

"I can't—"

He kneeled in front of her, talking to her as one would to comfort a small child. "Isha, look. We're short on supplies and can't afford to waste anything, okay?"

"But…"

"It won't do any good just lying there."

Isha kept far away from the Dark Templar, as did everyone else. She could tell that the leader wanted to talk to her, but he kept away with a healthy respect to the hovering, protective Zak.

She also wanted to talk to Tassadar... about what she didn't know, but something... tell him she was sorry? Something.

With a sigh, she hunkered down and kept marching, legs trembling with fatigue.

_Are these Terrans trustworthy?—Man, I could really go for a beer right now…—Brother, what say you? These Dark Templar, they fight well, but—marching, marching, just keep going; I'm gonna fall asleep if this keeps up—Damn, Kent's gone, Harding's gone, Price is gone—may the Zerg show themselves again soon, for I long for blood…_

Zak gave the thoughts bouncing around in his head a forceful shove. Picking up too much static. Ignore it, shut it out…

His head cleared, he noticed that Isha was starting to lag. Without a word, he scooped her up.

"Zak!" she protested.

"You're tired," he said simply. A glance at her thoughts, and he replied, "Don't worry about me; I used to do this kind of thing all the time."

She crossed her arms, stubborn not to show her embarrassment and fatigue. "I can walk."

"Yeah, but you're falling behind."

"Was not," she muttered, and snuggled against him, despite her previous defiance.

He carried her quite a distance, ignoring the curious glances of those around him and shooting a warning glare at any Dark Templar that got too close. After a while, he let her walk again. He was getting tired—everyone but the Protoss was getting tired—but he was determined not to show it. His muscles complained, his legs groaned in protest, but he gave them no heed. When Isha began to slow again, he once again carried her, and soon enough his arms joined in the bothersome chorus. The air was thinning, too—they were climbing high up a mountainside, onward and upward in a seemingly endless march.

Finally, Tassadar paused atop a jagged peak, surveying the valley below. _Here,_ he stated decisively, and the groups followed their respective leaders down the slope. The Terrans began to set up camp, pitching a tent here and dropping a detox pill into a canteen there. The Dark Templar split away from the other Protoss, and the two sides sat down, closed their eyes, and became utterly motionless. Zak had seen Tassadar engage in the same practice before, but it was still weird, to say the least.

Zak sat Isha down and helped pitch a few tents. Isha, trying to be useful, darted around him, asking him what went where and could she do that and if he needed help he could just ask and—

With an exhausted sigh, he sat up and put his hands on his knees. "Isha?"

"Um, yes?" she squeaked meekly, one hand unconsciously behind her back and the other nervously fingering the rebreather.

"Relax. Please."

She sighed, flopping down on the harsh stone and dirt. "I'm sorry! I just want to..."

"I know kid, but just relax, okay? We got everything covered here." His arm swept over to encompass the scurrying Terrans, pulling up tents and purifying water. "We've all done this a hundred times... well... not all of us." He grinned from behind his mask, and bent to jam a spike into the earth.

"Can I have my drug?"

He nodded distractedly, dug the needle and vial out of his belt, and handed it to her. "Remember to disinfect, and not overdose." He bent to the task again.

Isha beamed—he had let her do it herself!—and quickly wiped down the needle and her arm with the alcohol he gave her, and slipped the needle into a vein.

_Ahhhh..._

Sudden movement from over the Dark Templar side—startled, she turned. Piercing green eyes of the leader met hers.

She froze in fear, then let out a breath. He wanted to talk to her.

Glancing at Zak to make sure he was busy and didn't notice, she tiptoed over.

Finally, the last tent was pitched. A stake was missing, so they'd been forced to use a small rock instead. Zak stood, dusting himself off. One of Raynor's lieutenants—a young man named Cavez—had assigned him to lookout duty. All he had to do was check on Isha, then it was off to the ridge for him.

He turned, wiping his ask-coated hands on his equally ash-coated pants. "Hey, Isha, I've gotta…"

Isha wasn't there. "_Damn_ it," he hissed, his eyes darting around searching for her. Where was she? Where could she have gone in three minutes?!

He felt her before he saw her. She was afraid of something, but determined to face it. She was also worried—worried that he'd get mad at her. Mad at her for what?

His gaze landed on a group of large, black rocks near the unofficial boundary between the human and Dark Templar sides of the valley. Amongst their jagged shapes his artificially enhanced vision quickly picked out two figures. Isha was standing still, apart from the occasional nervous shiver. She was facing away from him, focused on the other figure—the Dark Templar leader. He was perched ever-so-calmly on the top of a bolder, cross-legged, his emerald eyes aimed down at Isha. A light wind tugged almost playfully at the deep, brownish-burgundy cloth draped around his chest and arms.

Zak clenched his fists. He had to get her _away_ from him…

But… the Dark Templar made no move. He wasn't attacking her at all. No, they seemed to be… talking…

Silently and cautiously, Zak crept forward, inching just close enough to make out their conversation.

_You do not know his name._

"No," she whispered. "Er... sir."

Zeratul was silent for a moment, pondering, and Isha used the time to force her heartbeat to slow. This Dark Templar was different. He was okay. He wasn't going to take her back. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves, repeating the words to herself like a mantra.

_This is most disturbing,_ Zeratul murmured, steepling his fingers. Most _disturbing. There are only a few criminals of the Dark Templar society... and most of them are either dead or have disappeared. The only one I can think of is Ulrezaj and his followers... this must come to the Matriarch's attention._

He seemed to notice something on her and moved suddenly, reaching out to her, and she flinched, taking an involuntary step back. He paused. _Do not be afraid._

She bit her lip as he moved his hand again, tugging at her shirt and pulling it up to look at her stomach, eying the symbols. His eyes flared angrily. _These are the old Protoss for..._

"For what?" she whispered when he didn't go on.

_...for slave. There is Slave, Pet, Plaything, Whore..._ Disgust radiated from him. _...But no name. You can come out now, Terran._

She blinked and looked behind her. "...Zak?"

Zak stepped out from behind a rocky protrusion, decloaking as he did so. His hand twitched nervously toward his knife. He realized this Protoss was not an enemy, but old habits were hard to get over. "How long did you know I was here?"

The Protoss gave a small, slightly amused nod. _You may make yourself unseen and unheard, Terran, but the mind's true eye is not so easily deceived._ His voice—or rather, his thoughts—held amazing resonance and depth. They carried with them a great sense of depth and wisdom. Who was this guy, anyway?

Zak blinked behind his goggles. "You… felt me?"

_Only the greatest of warriors can become truly invisible._

"Yeah, whatever." Zak felt himself getting annoyed. The alien refused to give him a straight answer! He stepped slowly forward, stopping to rest a hand on Isha's shoulder. She was still nervous, and he was still plenty pissed. One, she'd wandered off without telling him. Two, he was still very uncomfortable with the Dark Templar touching her. Three, well, the new information about Isha's old "master" was enough to piss anyone off.

"Zak," she said, both scolding and embarrassed for her own sake, "why did you have to—"

"Just looking out for you, kid. You're supposed to tell me when you wander off."

"You wouldn't have let me go, anyway," she quietly retorted, staring at the ground. She had a point, though; there was no way he would have let her get that close to a Protoss on her own.

She cast a guilty glance up at him. "Are you mad at me?"

"A little, yeah. Just tell me next time you plan on taking a walk, okay?"

She muttered a weak "okay," and hung her head. Zak gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, trying his best to let her know that things were all right. The Dark Templar kept his greenfire eyes on the both of them, remaining silent an unobtrusive.

After Isha felt a bit more secure, Zak began to walk towards the ridge. "I've got lookout duty now, so stay outta trouble, okay?" He pointed warningly at the Dark Templar. "And that goes for you, too."

_It is not my place to intervene. I have my own matters to attend to as well._

Zak rolled his eyes. Jeez, this guy loved being vague…

"Right. I'll be back in a few hours. You and I gotta talk about this Ulrejaz or whatever." He turned to Isha one more time. "Don't worry, kid, I'm just on top of that ridge over there."

After receiving a nod from both of them, Zak began to climb the walls of the valley. He turned what the Dark Templar had said to Isha over and over in his head. At least none of the Protoss here were enemies…

But somewhere, there was a Protoss that wasn't an ally… and Zak was determined he'd take the bastard down next time he laid eyes on him. If the Dark Templar knew how to find him…

He perched on top of the ridge, scanning the horizon. For now, the Zerg were the enemy, and they could be coming at any given moment. Survival first, vengeance later. It was best to focus on the task at hand.

Isha liked Zeratul.

It was hard not to like him. He was so wise, and eager to impart his wisdom on others, even if he did enjoy talking in riddles. In fact, she even liked that about him. He would say something then leave you to figure out exactly what was said, waiting for you to seek him out again to get more.

It was addicting. "Teaching comes from the teacher."

Well, _duh._ But when she looked at it harder, she found that that wasn't what he meant. It made her think, and she liked it.

Tassadar she remained farther from, for a reason she could not discern even to herself. She should feel safer with him... right? But perhaps she was guilty of what happened before. He seemed upset that she stayed away from him, but did not seek her out, for he had more important things to do, but she saw him gazing at her sadly. Though he gazed at Zeratul more often, and with bewilderment.

Isha stayed also away from the Terrans. They were loud, boisterous, and obnoxious; she could think around the Protoss. She stayed with them when she wasn't in the tent with Zak, and he had guard duty a lot. They were unable to be together, for they shared the tent with four other Marines, to which Isha refused to sleep in the tent if Zak wasn't there.

Isha's eyes closed and she leaned back, dangling her toes in the warm, ashen water. If the Zerg decided to attack just now, she would be completely in the open, but for now she didn't care. Behind her Zak let her lean against his chest, a hand on her waist, deep in thought.

"Whatcha thinking?"

"Mm?"

Isha tilted her head back to look up at him, a smile playing in her crystal blue eyes. "You're thinking about something. What is it?"

He shrugged. "Ah, just wondering if Zyhowski could fit in this spring."

Isha raised an eyebrow. "Zyhowski?"

"Yeah, the big guy with the red beard. He rolled over in his sleep, so I had my nose jammed up his armpit all night. Next time he walks by, I wanna dunk him a good one… get rid of that damn smell."

Isha's feet splashed in the water as she giggled wildly. Zak was annoyed with her for finding amusement in his suffering and made a point about it, but it took her a good minute or two to finally regain control. With a final barrage of chuckles, she lifted her goggles to wipe a tear from her eye. "Ah… ha… no, seriously, what are you thinking about?"

"What, you don't believe me?"

She leaned into him further. "Aw, come on, that can't be all you were thinking about."

Oh, no. The face. Christ, she was giving him _that_ look again…

His hand traveled up to her shoulder, his grip tightening slightly. "I'm just… worried."

Worried, what an understatement. He was terrified. The Zerg were close—closer every night—and at night he could hear them, feel them… It made him sick. He'd refused a ration more than once, unable to eat due to the wrenching feeling in his stomach.

She traveled her hands up to hug him around the neck, bending backwards to find him. "We'll be okay, won't we?"

"Sure, we will." But he didn't sound convinced. Isha turned around to hug him better, rubbing her nose against his throat. He squeaked, and she giggled a little more.

"You have a way of..."

She blinked up at him. "A way of what, Zak?"

"Just... you... take my mind off things." He sighed and hugged her. "C'mon, get your shoes on. It makes me nervous that you can't run..."

"You'd just carry me."

"Yeah, but I can't carry you and shoot at the same time."

She shrugged and tugged her shoes back on, then got up and stretched. "I'm gonna go over to Zeratul again, wanna come?"

"Ah... is that wise? He's busy..."

She arched her eyebrows. Zeratul was as silent and motionless as the rest of the Protoss.

"Oh... fine."

Zak stubbornly tailed behind Isha as she made her was through the garden of silent, gray-bodied statues. Zeratul wasn't an enemy, and Isha liked him, but…

Maybe the man and the alien would have gotten along better if Zak hadn't attacked him before. The two kept their distance, and rarely was anything exchanged between them other than a quick nod. He could see why Isha liked him so much—he wasn't exactly friendly, but he was more than willing to share tidbits of wisdom with Isha.

The girl crouched down in front of the motionless alien, head slightly cocked to one side. Zak stopped his customary five meters away, showing obvious discomfort in being so close to so many Protoss.

"Zeratul, sir, are you awake?"

A blazing green eye peeked partially open, and Zak got the feeling that the Dark Templar was somewhat annoyed at being woken from his slumber. He acknowledged Isha's presence with a telepathic grunt.

"Oh, you were sleeping? Sorry."

_I am awake now, young one. I need not rest further._ His deep, dry voice echoed within their heads as he stood and shook himself, stretching his back and neck before resuming his usual hunched posture. He glanced sideways in Zak's direction. _I see you have brought your guardian along._

Isha looked from Zak to Zeratul to Zak again. "Oh, stop being so unfriendly, you two!" When Zak refused to budge, she focused her attention back on Zeratul. "C'mon, he's not that bad, and he said he was sorry about—"

The Dark Templar's luminescent green eyes were locked with the cold lenses of Zak's goggles. _You seek my council, Terran?_

"Ulrejaz," he replied, remaining perfectly still. "Tell me everything you know about him."  
_  
_Zeratul gave him a long, calculating glare that sent chills down his spine. _The path you seek is unwise._

"I need to know."

He shifted on the hard rock, now stretching his arms in front of him, and Isha gave a short giggle of laughter at the pose. He relaxed and gave her an amused look before turning back to Zak.

_I am not sure that Ulrezaj is the same as the one who tortured this young one,_ he warned, nodding in Isha's direction.

"If there's any chance that he is—"

_There is a way to find out... if she is willing to impart her memories to me._ He gazed at her, head tilted to one side.

Isha took a single step back, biting her lip.

_It would help us bring him to justice,_ he told her, voice gentle.

"I..."

"No. You're not torturing her like that," Zak said flatly, and at those words Isha snapped her head up, fire in her crystalline eyes.

"Don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot do!"

Zak blinked, mouth opening in surprise. With a glare, Isha moved forward so she was only a few inches away from the leader, eyes locked on him.

"I'm ready."

He didn't want her to do it. He knew full well the pain she would have to endure.

But she had chosen to do it. She had made a choice for herself, and had outright told him what that choice was.

As he watched Isha slowly move towards the Dark Templar, Zak wondered to himself—had he really been trying to control her? Everything he did was for her protection, wasn't it? But… was it worth sacrificing her freedom?

According to Isha, the answer was no.

She closed her eyes as Zeratul touched his craggy brow to hers. Zak did not intervene.

He was not her master.

_You are mine..._

One hand stroked her while the other cut her... she shuddered at the mix of pleasure and pain...

Blood was all over the walls. The shadows were alive; they were tangible and could cut her... wrenching pain and darkness and screams...

The little boy gurgled and died; she dropped his body, hands shaking...

They both violated her; she stretched a hand towards him, pleading...her Master laughing, laughing...

She felt hands on her, gently lifting her. Zeratul held onto her shoulders, settling her on the rock next to him so she didn't fall over, breathing harshly as he took in all the pain. _By the Gods..._

Another set of hands touched her; Zak hugged her tightly. "Isha... Isha, are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said shakily. "I'm fine."

Zeratul remained there, eyes closed, one hand on her shoulder. _Yes,_ he said, for once not speaking in riddles. _It was Ulrezaj._

Zak leapt to attention. "Then tell me everything you know about him!"

Zeratul's wise eyes shot through his very soul. _You are far too reckless for your own good, Terran… He is powerful, and you would be a fool to seek him out on your own._

"I don't care. He'll come back someday, and when he does, I'm gonna kill him." Zak's muscles tightened, his teeth bared behind the mask. "I'm gonna fuckin' _kill_ him!"

"Zak!" she cried. "You can't... don't you remember what happened last time? He almost killed you--he _would_ have killed you if the Protoss hadn't come and... and..." she glanced at Zeratul, embarrassed, but he said nothing.

"I don't care," he snarled again, breathing hard from behind his helmet.

"Oh, Zak, please don't..." she was almost crying now, and wiped her eyes on her arm. "Please... he'll kill you, and then what would happen? He'd kill you... and... he'd take me back!" Desperately now, she added, "He'll take me back if you die!"

Zak didn't move, and she could imagine his eyes hardening up behind his mask. She clutched Zeratul's arm tightly in reflex, tears spilling over.

"I won't die."

He gathered her up from within Zeratul's tattered, flowing cape. "Isha, listen to me. I'd never let you go back, okay?" He encircled her in his arms, stroking her long, silky hair. "I promised."

"But… but you…"

"I'm not gonna let him get you. I'm gonna learn how to beat him. I'm gonna make it so he'll never come after you again."

She pressed her head to his chest. "Zak…"

He pulled her closer, holding her with all his might. His hard, steel eyes cut through the hollow, black lenses and focused on Zeratul. "Tell me everything."

A long, deep sigh. Then, Zeratul spoke.

_Ulrezaj was only a young one when he was exiled from Aiur; his very family rejected what he wanted to do... fight. For he was a worker; a Khalai. The hatred in him was strong, and it grew stronger with each passing year as more reports of captured Dark Templar filtered in. The Conclave tortured whatever one of us could get, and he took each as a blow... some of them were his friends, and he had the bad luck of making friends with all those that were caught. As such, his heart grew blacker, and his mind more unstable. I remember..._ Sadness filtered into his rough voice. _I remember walking in on him as an adolescent... he was busy taking apart a Kurakanu. Alive. Soon after he began preaching torture and death to the Khala Protoss, and would not stop. He gathered followers, and my Matriarch made the choice of exiling him... that was the last we heard of him, until you showed up._

He placed a hand on her shoulder. _Believe me when I say we did not know he was this insane, and this sadistic. We believed him to be merely a disturbed youth, who would disappear in time._

His eyes closed in pain. _This... is beyond anything I have encountered. He must be apprehended immediately, and brought to true justice._

Zeratul turned to Zak, green eyes flaring. _Is that enough, Terran?_

"If that's all you know, then yeah…" Zak sighed, the raging fire within him still unquenched. What had he learned? His past. Background data. Could be useful.

But how could he beat him? Any Protoss was stronger and faster than he was easily. There was the question of psionic prowess as well. He'd had only a sample of his power—it had been so easy for the monster to pick through his mind and find his weaknesses.

"I… I need to think for a while," he said, putting a hand on his temple. His arms slipped away from Isha as he slowly turned and began to head back towards camp.

He needed to be stronger, and not just physically. How?

The dampener. He fingered the side of his helmet, knowing that somewhere beneath his skull, the device was wired to his brain, filtering him, inhibiting him… if only he could deactivate it somehow…

_Beware, Terran,_ Zeratul whispered in his head. _Obsession often leads to madness._

He smirked to himself. Ever since the Program got a hold of him, obsession was the only thing he knew.

Isha was the priority. Ulrejaz was a threat.

"He's going to keep going," Isha whispered.

Zeratul nodded slightly, the hand on her shoulder squeezing comfortingly. _He is._

Isha got up, running after Zak. "Zak! Oh Zak... please don't go into weapon mode, please... you promised..."

He came to a halt, Isha's voice bringing him out of the haze. She had not expected him to stop, and somewhat crashed into him. The impact, however, quickly transformed itself into an embrace.

"Don't go into weapon mode, please, you promised…"

"Hey, I was just going to go sit down and think for a while," he said quietly, the cold working its way out of him.

"No you weren't, you were gonna leave and—"

"I wasn't gonna leave. I promised, didn't I?"

She sniffed. "Yeah…"

"Okay, now you just calm down, all right? I'm gonna think for a while, and—"

He stomach twisted in on itself as a pulsating throb filled his head. The commlink buzzed to life inside his helmet.

_"We've got Zerg! They're coming from the south!"_

_"Everybody out! Let's go!"_

"Time to go," Zak said with a noticeable hiss. Fighting the urge to vomit, he bolted back to the camp, joining in with the others as they packed up with incredible speed. He glanced behind him frequently, making sure Isha was still there.

"Alright, come on and help me with this. Good. Okay, this way. We're outta here." Taking her by the hand, they fell in step behind the rest of the company.

_Stupid Zerg,_ she thought miserably, and Zak's hand squeezed hers.

They started at a run, moving quickly across the rocks, and Isha almost immediately fell behind. Zak scooped her up, and she clenched her fists, careful of her claws. She was _weak,_ she was horribly _weak,_ and she couldn't even run as fast as a civilian...

"No, you're not," she heard Zak murmur softly. "You're not weak."

_Yes I am._

She could tell when Zak got tired, and immediately wriggled enough so that he dropped her, ignored his exasperated "_Isha..._" and ran beside him. However, she at once began to fall behind.

Arms scooped her up again, but this time it was much _stronger_ arms. She looked up—

—and saw Tassadar. With a squeak, she lowered her eyes and stared at the rushing ground beneath them.

Zak tried to take her back, and Tassadar simply said, _You are weary,_ and that was the end of that.

After long hours of running, Tassadar finally stopped at another valley, set her down, and gestured. Protoss immediately began dropping into squats, eyes closing.

Someone brushed by her—Zeratul.

She scowled at him. "You know," she said, already annoyed by the run, "you could be a little more friendly."

Zeratul simply grunted and sat down, closing his eyes.

Zak, as fatigued as the others from the run, grudgingly set to work setting up camp. He noticed a rather grouchy Isha coming towards him.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Could you get over the whole marching thing?"

"I was too slow," she snapped.

"Yeah, well you're comparing yourself to trained soldiers. Protoss, even…"

"I fell behind everyone. Even the civilians."

"You spent half of your life barely alive," he replied practically. "You've still got some catching up to do." He pat her on the shoulder. "Besides, we've got you covered."

Her eyes fell to the ground; she obviously wasn't feeling much better.

"Here, I'll show ya how to pitch a tent."

They set to work. Zak was glad to have a way to take Isha's mind off the march, and was proud of her for learning so quickly.

"Yeah, knot it like that. Good. Next time, they might let you pitch one by yourself."

He took off his mask—the ash wasn't quite as bad here—and took a long swig from his canteen.

"I doubt it," she mumbled. Zak sighed, rolling his eyes, and offered her the canteen.

"Not thirsty."

She went over to sit by Zeratul, who cracked one eye open to look at her.

"What? I like you."

He arched a craggy brow and closed his eye again, but his face twisted in a way that she knew was a smile.

Tassadar was slowly, finally beginning to trust Zeratul, and he and Raynor would talk for long periods of time. Isha sometimes caught the edges of their conversation—it was some of what Tassadar had told her, but with more detail.

"Why are Ghosts trained?" she asked Zak.

Zak raised an eyebrow. Once again, Isha's bad habit of asking all the wrong questions was coming into play.

"It's… politics," he replied slowly. "Government and military paranoia."

"That's a lousy answer," she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Okay, you want the real answer?"

She nodded.

He took a deep breath, dark memories rising up to meet him. "Hoo boy… Well, it's like this…" He sat down, thinking how to word his answer. "You know about psychs, right?"

"Um, yeah…"

"Well… the former Confederacy thought they—we—were dangerous. They had no idea what we were capable of, no idea what we might do… So, somebody got the brilliant idea to use psychics to their advantage. Study 'em. See if they held military potential." There was a powerful bitterness in his words. "The Confederacy founded the Ghost Program—secretly, of course—and began to kidnap anybody who showed signs of being a psych. Babies, grandparents, anybody. After a while, the program shifted from experimentation to training. And so, after years of covert research and billions in taxpayers' money, they came up with this." He pointed to his chest, a cynical sneer across his face.

Isha bit her lip. "But… why…"

"Fear," he spat. "I was a threat to their precious balance of power. I could find out all their dirty little secrets just by bumping into the wrong person on the street. Hell, a powerful enough psychic can go ahead and make somebody's _brain_ explode…" He stood up. "Nah, I'm just a low-level teep. Gettin' into people's heads is all I'm really good for."

"The training…"

"Was to keep us in line. Like I said, they didn't want psychs running free in the streets. They made us good little soldiers, cogs in the military machine. Why destroy what you can manipulate?" Zak's lips twisted into another cynical grin. It was that kind of thinking that had brought the Confederacy down. That same chain of thought put four planets under and a psychotic terrorist into power. "Heh… guess it came back to bite 'em in the ass, didn't it?"

She gave him a hug. "Well, I'm glad it did, cause I love you."

"I love you too, kid."

Isha turned to Zeratul. "What happens when a Protoss is born with_out_ psionic power?"

He didn't answer. Used to this, Isha poked him in the side. "C'mon, wake up!"

Zeratul cracked an eye open. _Is there no rest for the weary?_ There was an underlying tone of humor in his words.

"C'mon, answer the question! Please?"

Zeratul looked at her, and Zak thought he felt a twinge of pain. _Rarely is a child born unblessed._

"But it still happens sometimes, right?"

_Indeed,_ came an almost sorrowful reply. Zeratul's wise gaze turned slightly away.

"What happens to them?"

_They are… unable to speak as we do. They cannot access the power within. Amongst Dark Templar such as I, they attempt to contribute as much as possible, even though they are shunned by their own brethren. However, within the Khalai society, they suffer a different fate._

"What?"

_Death._

Isha flinched. "That's... awful."

_Indeed._

"Did you know any like that?"

_Yes. He took his own life._

Isha flinched again, and impulsively reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry."

Zeratul blinked, twitching back slightly in surprise. She didn't let go.

Zak tugged her shoulder. "Why don't you leave the poor guy alone?"

"No. I like him."

"That doesn't mean you have to—"

"Yes it does."

Zak gave a defeated sigh and scratched his head. "Yeah… sorry, she's just…"

_Curious,_ Zeratul finished. _Her mind is young and fertile. You need not take responsibility for her._ The old Protoss carefully brushed Isha away and rose to his feet, once again routinely stretching. _Now run along, young one. I must meet with the Executor._

"Okay." She flounced away, Zak following. "Bye!"

She caught a glimpse of him shaking his head slightly in amusement, then gliding over to the other.

A few mornings later Isha woke up to a reeling stomach. Zak was already gone, as he had told her he had very early guard duty, so she didn't panic, but staggered out of the tent.

Bile rose to her throat. She spat it out, clutching her head, pressing a fist against her stomach.

More bile came, and, hiding behind a boulder, she puked.

At last, when everything was out of her stomach, she stood tremblingly and made her way back to the tent, sitting just outside the door and shaking miserably. What was _wrong_ with her? She was fine yesterday!

"Hey, honey..."

Isha looked up. A Marine stood over her, looking down with concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," she muttered, wiping her mouth.

"Saw you throwing up over there. You should see a Medic."

"Yeah..."

"Seriously." He reached down, lifting her to her feet. "C'mon."

Miserably she let him pull her over to the white-armored woman, the only Medic here. She stood still while the other fussed over her, touching and prodding. She had no idea what she was doing, but...

Random tests were preformed, and the Medic stood back, an odd look on her face.

"What is it?"

"Honey," the Medic said, "you're pregnant."

It was like a bucket of ice water was dumped over her head. "Wh-what?"

"You're three weeks pregnant, honey."

"That's—that's impossible!"

"I assure you—"

"No! You don't get it! I'm _barren!_" She sat down hard, bruising her rear on the sharp rocks. "It's impossible—"

"Hey, honey, it's okay." The Medic put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, I don't know who told you that you were barren, but you're not. The test is 100 accurate."

Isha got up and walked away, stalking for where Tassadar, Zeratul, and Raynor were talking quietly. "Executor?"

He looked up. _Can this—_

"No."

She had to know.

Tassadar paused, looking within her mind. _It is possible, yes. We healed your womb,_ he said softly, only to her.

"B-But... why didn't you _tell_?"

_I am sorry..._

"What's wrong, darlin'?" Raynor asked, but she turned away, stumbling over to the tent.

A thought crossed her mind:

_I can't tell Zak._

"Okay, shift's over. My turn."

Zak gladly left his post. "Have fun."

"Loads of it," the marine said, matching Zak's sarcastic tone.

He climbed down the slope and made his way back to the tent. "Hey, kid," he greeted reflexively.

Isha was huddled in a corner, showing no signs whatsoever that she'd seen him come in.

"Isha…?" He sat down next to her and put a hand on her back. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she muttered, her face between her knees.

"Bullshit." He reached into her mind…

… And slammed into an invisible wall. She was blocking him again. That meant she was very much upset.

"Hey, come on," he said softly, drawing her into a warm hug. "You can tell me what's bothering you. Do you need me to kick somebody in the balls again?"

She shook her head. "N-No."

"What is it?" He held her tighter.

"I-I... I can't tell you."

He shifted, and she could tell he was hurt. "Why not? C'mon, I love you. You can tell me anything."

She let out a sob, pressing her face into his chest. "You'll leave me."

He stared down at her in shock. "What? I—_never_, Isha, you _know_ that!"

A shudder went through her body. "Zak... please... I can't tell you. Please don't ask me..."

"Isha, I just…" He stopped in mid-sentence. A tiny hole had formed in her defenses.

And then he knew.

He leapt to his feet, bellowed an obscenity, and stormed outside, taking it out on anything he could find—rocks, empty canteens, anything. He continued to curse atop his lungs.

It was his fault. It was all his fault. He knew it was a bad idea. And now this. They were in the middle of a war, stranded on some godforsaken ash ball, surrounded by Zerg, with little chance of survival…

He could barely take care of Isha as it was. But now—what could he do? It was possible to kill the child, yes, they could do that, get rid of the problem…

…But… part of him refused. He couldn't do that to her. He'd created it. It was his. He couldn't…

Neither of them knew how to take care of it. Hell, they were the last people alive that knew how to raise kids. And Isha—there was too much risk involved. She and the… it… could both wind up dead.

He plopped down on the ash-covered ground. "Fantastic. Just fan-fuckin'-tastic."

Isha remained where she was, sobbing. "Zak, Zak..."

He was going to leave her...

"Zak, please come back... please..."

She could hear him bellowing curses, and annoyed shouts of "shut up!" from other people.

"Zak, I'm sorry, please!"

He didn't come back. She staggered out of the tent, hands shaking, to find him slumping to the ground, hands clenched.

Tears streamed down her face, and suddenly her feet were moving, bounding over the rocks.

With a final roar, he angrily punched the ground. It was his fault—all his fault. Things just kept getting worse and worse because of him. He couldn't make it up to her—not this, this was too much… Little drops of water fell into the ashes around him. He was crying. How pathetic could he get? Idiot. It was all his fault…

He heard light, running footsteps. He jerked his head up. "Isha!"

She was running. Away from him.

"Isha, stop!" He scrambled to his feet and tore after her. She didn't slow down.

He caught up to her and pulled her into his chest. "Isha, I'm sorry, this is all my fault…"

She shook her head, tears soaking his shirt. "It's mine, I made you be with me, I..."

"No... it's not your faullt... don't ever think it's your fault."

He had said the same thing the first full day they were together. She held him tightly, letting out soft, choking sobs.

"Shh. It's okay. We'll figure it out, okay? We'll figure it out together."

Isha pressed against him. "We... we could get rid of it."

_No, please don't say yes, I can't..._

Part of him was rearing up in anger. It's _was_ Isha's fault! She started it! He should just get rid of it! Hell, he should get rid of _her!_

No, no, he could never do that. For some crazy reason, be it love or his fucked up brain, he could never bring himself to abandon her. Screw the smart choice; he'd already proven to himself he was an idiot.

"Yeah, we could get rid of it," he said quietly, staring past her trembling shoulder, his words rushed and panicked. "Solve a lot of problems real fast." He tightened his arms around her and felt her flinch. "But… I don't think… no, I don't think I could…" He bent his head down until it touched hers. "Christ… I can't… Isha?"

She responded with a muffled sob.

His panicked tone increased. "I… half of it's you in there. I can't hurt you. You tell me what to do. What do you want to do? I can't do this on my own. Come on, Isha, _please_!"

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't, I can't—"

"Tell me what to do."

"I can't," she repeated yet again. "It's mine. It's ours. Oh, Zak, I just can't get rid of it! It's my baby..."

"We'll figure it out, okay? We can fix this." He rocked back and forth, his embrace as tight as ever. He was panicked, afraid, he didn't know what to do…

"We'll figure it out," he said, partially to himself. "We'll figure it out."

However, his own words did little to convince him. It couldn't be happening. It was _impossible._ He wasn't a father—he could never be a father. And Isha… Part of him still saw her as a kid, even though both of them had acted to the contrary on several occasions. And she had been _barren…_

The answer floated into his sight from the surface of Isha's thoughts. The Protoss hadn't healed just their cuts and bruises, they had healed everything, Isha's ravaged womb included.

All of a sudden, Zak found himself standing before Tassadar, fists tightly clenched, more than ready to punch his scaly, mouthless face in. He did not speak, his thoughts more than adequate communication.

_What the fuck is your problem?! Gotta screw with everything, don't you?!_

_She was wounded. We wished only to heal her._ The alien spoke calmly, directing his thoughts to Zak and Isha alone. _Perhaps it was a misunderstanding, but since you were so eager to mate, we could only assume that you were attempting to conceive. _

_Conceive?!_ It took quite an effort not to shout it out loud. He took a step forward, but stopped himself, remembering all too clearly what happened last time he had fought with the Executor.

Her voice was quiet. "Zak."

He was silent, hands balled into fists, glaring at Tassadar, and she knew he was yelling telepathically.

"_Zak._"

He turned.

"Leave him alone," she whispered, "just leave him alone. He did what he thought was best."

Then, miserable, she trudged over and sat by the Dark Templar Prelate, staring off into space.

_I can't be a mother... but it's my baby..._


	6. Chapter 6

_You carry life within you, and that life is forever bonded to you. Such is a great responsibility,_ Zeratul said, his emerald eyes drawing Isha's gaze. _But know that you do not bear it alone._ He gestured slightly towards Zak, who was in the process of cursing under his breath and kicking up bits of rock and ash. _The child is bonded to him as well, and was created of your flesh and his blood. He, too, doubts he has the ability to care for it._

Zak looked up and shot a cold glare in Zeratul's direction.

The old alien's face twisted into a Protoss grin. _He is jealous,_ he stated, amusement permeating his thoughts. _He envies that you come to me for guidance and not him._

"That's because you're old and wise," she replied, then grinned at him. "_Very_ old."

The alien harrumphed and shook his head. _Such is the arrogance of the young,_ he stated, then reached out to lightly touch her forehead. _Do not worry. Simply do what you think is right._

"But I don't know what's right..."

He smiled and turned away, returning to his hunched-over pose. She pouted at him, which had no effect whatsoever like it would on Zak.

Boots crunched on stone, and she looked up to see Zak scowling down at the old alien, then held out a hand to her. "C'mon, kid..."

She took his hand. "Stop calling me 'kid,' all right?"

She had a point—she was definitely not a child, and didn't appreciate being treated like one. She was a young woman—an adult.

The shadow of a smile played about the edge of his eyes. Hard to look adult with a face like _hers_…

But still…

"Yeah, all right," he grunted as he lifted her to her feet. He was about to take her back to the camp, but stopped himself. She was an adult. She could make her own choices.

With a sigh, he let go of her hand. "I'm going back to the tent. Need to think for a while…" As he walked down the slope, he glanced over his shoulder. "You wanna come along or hang here?"

She smiled. "I'll hang here. I'll stay with Zeratul, don't worry."

"That's what I'm worried about," she heard him mutter. A deep chuckle came from Zeratul once more, but it was short and soon he fell silent again. Zak scowled at him.

As he stalked away, Isha turned to Zeratul. "So," she said, "um, how are babies made?"

Zeratul raised a ridged eyebrow, then, with a sigh and a shake of his head, he began to explain as best as he could. _Although our races differ, the process is similar enough. When a male and female mate, if under the proper conditions, a cell from both combine into one. That cell grows and divides within the female's womb. When it has reached relative maturity, the female gives birth._ His emerald gaze fell on Isha. _The process is of course more detailed, but that is where our similarities end._

The old alien readjusted himself into his resting position, noticing that Isha's expression was still filled with curiosity. _I suppose you wish to know what our differences are, then…_

Upon reaching camp, Zak set about his routine. It helped to clear his head and sort out his thoughts. Besides, the habit was hard to break. He sat on the ground, stretching his legs out and leaning forward until his chin touched the ground. His legs and back burned, which meant he was starting to get out of shape. Lovely.

Why did Isha spend so much time around Zeratul, anyway? What did she see in him? What was so great about those big, stuck-up, glowy-eyed, scaly, mouthless gorillas, anyway?

It was probably harmless. Isha was always so damn curious, and the alien seemed to enjoy answering her questions. He shouldn't worry about it; he had plenty of other problems to deal with.

More stretching. Crunches. Push-ups.

Isha was pregnant. It was a difficult concept to grasp. He'd only just figured out how to be human, and now he had an approximate eight months to learn to be a father. He hadn't even known Isha for _three…_ Neither of them knew a thing about raising kids, and there was a chance that they might never get that far…

He stood up, wiping the sweat off his brow. There was a bit of fuzz atop his head—his hair was growing back. That'd make Isha happy…

His hands and feet flew through the air as he sparred against imaginary opponents. Jab, block, sidestep, grab, throw, kick, et cetera. All part of the routine. He was getting tired faster than usual. Out of shape. Have to work on that…

The Zerg, now what to do about them? Number one choice: find a ship, get out of here, leave the war behind. Problem: no ships, and he couldn't just get up and leave. He had to fight—it was his duty. He felt a thread of loyalty towards Raynor and his boys. Deserting them would be… wrong. He'd just have to go with choice number two: survive, and hope for the best.

He was slowing down, his body beginning to ache. He pushed himself harder, knowing he could do better. He'd done the same routine a thousand times, and he'd do it a thousand more. Besides, he had to be stronger…

Ulrejaz. The threat. The enemy. He had to be stronger for Isha, stronger so he could kill _him_. The question of the dampener once again presented itself, but he shoved it away. He knew he had no sure way to deactivate it, and it would probably do more harm than good. He'd just have to shoot Ulrejaz or something before he knew what hit him. He ran though various scenarios in his mind, imagining when and where they would meet again, weighing the options, considering the outcomes…

Finally, Zak plopped down and took a long swig out of a canteen. It was one he had thrown during his previous panic attack, and he had no idea whether it was his or not. Whatever, it was water.

He was going to be a father. As crazy as it sounded, he and Isha had conceived. _Heh,_ he thought to himself, _picked a lovely time to start a family…_

"Well, yeah, of course!" She was happy he was talkative today. Usually he would just give her something cryptic and send her on her way. "I know you guys have—erm—you know, male organs... Master was naked enough to show me you guys do..."

Isha squirmed, face red. Zeratul seemed both amused and sad at the same time, and his hand lightly squeezed her shoulder before returning under his dark, tattered cloak.

Her gaze fell on Zak. He was obviously thinking as he exercised, his face set in a scowl. She glanced at the ground. She had made him mad... she'd have to make it up to him later.

She returned her gaze on Zeratul. "So?"

Zeratul frowned. _Understand that Ulrezaj was a very twisted individual. His behavior was beyond sin—it was an illness. What he has done is an embarrassment to us all._ He closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. _Unlike you Terrans, our culture does not glorify lust and sexual conquest. Yes, lust exists, but we believe mating to be a sacred thing, its purpose to create new life, not as an instrument of pleasure._

_As for biological differences, they are fairly straightforward. The ages of maturity, length of gestation… Usually, it is impossible to mate unless both male and female are physically ready. In heat, to put it in crude terms…_

"But Master…"

_Ulrezaj,_ the old Protoss snapped, his green eyes ablaze. _Use his true name, child! Show that he no longer holds power over you!_

She immediately cringed back, eyes wide. "I just... Master—"

_Can you not use his name?!_

"No," she burst out, "I can't!"

_No?_ He frowned, green eyes narrowing.

Isha shook her head, tears beginning to form. Zeratul was holding onto her arm, preventing her from running—when had he done that?

_Why not?_

"Because he does," she said miserably. "He still does."

Zeratul's eyes were now nothing but deadly, green slits. _What do you mean?_

She tried to yank away again, but found she could no longer move. "I... he's still my Master. He still... if he came for me... I would have to go with him," she whispered.

Zeratul remained silent, urging her to go on.

Isha shook her head. "I wouldn't be able to stay. I'd have to go with him. He's... he's still my Master. He still has power over me."

_A king can only keep his throne so as long as his subjects bow to him._ Zeratul drew himself up to his full height. _You are stronger than him, Isha. Defy him. Refuse to bow._

She shook her head, white-faced as he stood over her, cringing back against the rock wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zak look over, frowning, then start to stalk over. She tried to signal him to stay, but he ignored it and kept coming.

"I can't. If I do... he'll just torture me again. I'm not stronger. I'm not! He can do anything he wants to me... I can't do anything to defy him!"

_Look around you,_ the Dark Templar said as he swept his hand around the valley. _All those you see before you have refused to bow. Your presence here is proof enough of your strength._ His gaze fell on Zak, who stood motionless and confused, his plan to make Zeratul back off abandoned.

_You have already defied Ulrezaj a thousand times over,_ the old Protoss said softly, gesturing towards the man standing before him.

Zak looked from Zeratul to Isha to Zeratul again, tried to speak, swallowed, and managed a choked "me?"

The Prelate nodded. _Your fates are bound. It is in each other you have found strength._

Isha gazed at the ground, biting her lip.

Had she? Had she really? Yes, she had defied him by staying alive and staying with Zak, but what about some other time?

She remembered fighting him, clawing at his chest as he enjoyed her body, kicking and punching and screaming. Had that been defying? Or was it just something that was expected of her?

Isha remembered the little boy, and her eyes teared up. She hadn't even known his name. She hadn't even known what happened that her Master had decided to take another.

She looked up at the Prelate, and in her eyes was an unspoken question.

_Was it wrong...?_

_There are times when death is merciful,_ Zeratul answered. _What holds more value, the body or the soul?_

Zak remained silent, mulling things over in his head. _Strength in each other…_

It made sense somehow. The Program told him not to feel, but Isha _made_ him feel. What better way to stick it to them then to do all the things they said were impossible?

And Isha… She had, more than once, told him he wasn't the boss of her. If she could say that to him, then maybe one day she could stand up against that _bastard…_

Isha bowed her head. Her thoughts that day hadn't been destructive, she remembered now. They had been horrified. They had been compassionate. She couldn't have let him live. If she had... he would have been tortured to death, the way she had been slowly dying.

She looked up at the Prelate, who slowly sat back down again. He reached forward and gently placed a hand on her head, his eyes kind, then turned away.

That was her signal to leave. Silently she stood and walked back to Zak. He wrapped his arms around her, bending his head to kiss her. She let him, nuzzling against his chest, and they walked away together.

It had been defiance. Not direct defiance, but defiance none the less.

She sat down again near the stream, took her shoes off, and dangled her feet in once again, Zak behind her in the exact position they had before. Right here, a boulder blocked the view of anyone else.

Isha got an idea. The Prelate had told her that she had strength in Zak. Therefore, she was going to reap that strength no matter what.

Turning around in his arms, she kissed him, hands under his shirt, running up his chest.

She had told her Master that no way was she going to allow him to ruin another individual's life, and he, without realizing it, had obeyed.

"Hey, slow down," Zak whispered as Isha drew back from the kiss. "Now isn't really a good time to…"

She pouted at him though those crystal blue eyes. Damn it, she was using the _face_ on him!

"That's cheating," he muttered, feeling his hands finding their own way up and down her back.

"Is not." She nibbled gently on his bottom lip, tugging at it with her teeth, pressing herself close. His shirt was off now, in another moment, so was hers, and pants followed soon after. Zak slid down so they were half-emerged in the water, further blocking the view of the crouching Protoss or the wandering Terrans.

"You know we can't do this when the baby comes along."

"Yeah," he said quietly, tucking Isha's hair behind her ear. "Kid's not even born yet and we've probably done plenty to traumatize it…" He shifted to his side and rubbed Isha's belly, ignoring the scars across it. "Hard to believe it's actually in there."

"Mm-hm." She squirmed slightly, giggling.

"You're ticklish, eh?"

"Don't!" she laughed, squirming again as he tested his hypothesis once more.

"Don't? Why not?" He trailed his fingertips across her stomach again, then leaned down to kiss her scarred navel. He shifted again to stare at her. "Hm? Why not?"

"Because I'm—" He pinned her, tickling her sides. "—EEK!"

The giggling and laughter blended into lovemaking, and she closed her eyes as they moved, savoring their perfect unity.

_I see you've found a mate, my pet._

Zak sat bolt upright. He'd felt it, just a twinge, not enough to be certain, but…

"Get dressed. Quick." He vaulted out of the spring, pulling on his clothes.

"Zak…"

"Just get dressed. We need to get out of here." He jerked his head nervously around, searching for anything out of place. It may have been a false alarm. It might just be Isha's memories resurfacing again, or maybe he was just getting paranoid…

They needed to get back to the camp, back to where there were other Protoss, back to where he could get his hands on a weapon…

They were secluded, out in the open, but hidden from everyone else. It was the worst place possible.

Isha did as she was told, pulling on her clothes and touching his arm. "Zak, what's—"

_When I have you again, I want you do exactly as you did to him._

She went rigid. "Z-Z-Zak?"

"Come on, hurry." He put her in front of him, where he could see her, and pushed her into the open space beyond the boulder. She went willingly, clutching his hand tightly in fear.

Beyond the milling Terrans, she could see a slight movement—the Protoss were stirring. They sensed her Master's evil. They sensed something was not quite right.

Zak hurried Isha towards the Protoss. Ulrezaj wouldn't dare show himself with so many others around… would he?

Tassadar and Zeratul were already sending out scouting parties when they arrived.

_He is here,_ the Dark Templar Prelate said simply.

"Yeah," Zak grunted, then spun Isha around to look her in the eye. "Stay with these guys, okay? They'll know what to do."

"What the hell's going on?" he heard Raynor say. "Who's here?"

_Ready your men, Captain,_ came a reply from Tassadar. _There is an enemy amongst us._

Zak began to head towards the tents. Isha clutched his hand. "Zak, wait…"

"I'll be back. Don't worry about me."

Isha bit her lip and stood alone, trembling and terrified.

_He's here. He's here. Why can't he leave me the fuck alone?!_

Tension burned through the air as everyone readied themselves, the Terrans confused but obeying their commander.

She felt a comforting presence at her shoulder. She glanced up and back to see Tassadar standing just behind her, his cloak shifting against her legs. Another presence—Zeratul stood at her other shoulder. They were silent, directing their troops, but their presence was comforting enough.

Isha glanced at them. "Why?" she whispered. "Why does he have to come for me like this? Can't he leave me alone?!"

_He is obsessed,_ Tassadar replied, _though I doubt you are his sole reason for being here._

_Indeed he is an enemy of us all,_ Zeratul added. _Justice awaits him._

Zak, fully suited, fell in with a group of Marines.

"Okay, what are we looking for again?" Zyhowski said, strapping a pair of massive plasma tanks to his back.

"Rouge Protoss," Zak responded. "Armed and dangerous. Might not be alone."

The various patrols circled around the valley, but could find nothing.

Zak adjusted his goggles, scanning the top of the ridge. "Come on, you bastard, where are you?"

Zeratul and Tassadar moved on, eyes gleaming as they patrolled the camp, leaving her there alone. Isha stood there silently, pale and shaking, waiting for the inevitable.

He was coming. He was coming and he'd get her.

"Isha?"

She turned. Zak stood there, and for a moment she was confused—wasn't he with the patrols?

"Zak," she said, relieved. "Is he here?"

"I dunno, kid," he replied, his voice flat and cold and mechanical through his mask. "We haven't been able to find anything—but I've found a hiding place. C'mon, I'll show you; you'll be safe there."

She hesitated. "But—Zak—you said to stay with—"

"Now, Isha," he said roughly. She took a step back and whispered, "Okay, Zak," and moved towards him. He grasped her arm tightly, pulling her away from the others.

"Zak, please—you're hurting me—"

She was being dragged through the mountains of stone and fog of ash, and soon they were hidden from the group.

"Are you sure this is a good id—"

"Shut up," he breathed, and pressed her back into a rocky cavern. Deeper and deeper they walked, until the darkness was so overpowering that she clung to Zak's arm.

"Here..." hands slid over her body, touching her all over, and suddenly she was slammed into the rock wall, letting out a pained gasp as the hands continued to grope her.

"Zak—stop, you're scaring me!"

_Good._

"Okay, this is ridiculous; there is nothing _out_ here…"

"Hey, you've seem some of them 'Tossers, right? They can go all invisible and stuff."

"Focus, boys. Stay frosty. You heard the captain."

A Marine kicked up a puff of ash. "Well, I don't see nothin' out here an' there ain't nothin' out here an'—" His words were cut short as the air behind him materialized and a black-clad Protoss cut through his armor with a wicked, sparking blade. A wave of surprise and curses rippled through the group. A shot rang out, and the attacker hit the ground alongside the Marine's severed torso.

Zak stepped forward, the muzzle of his rifle still smoking. He kicked the body over, and saw a strangely shaped scar across the alien's right cheek. A symbol, one he recognized from the assortment on Isha's stomach.

Slave.

"This is one of 'em," he said flatly, "but not the one we're looking for."

The remaining soldiers continued their search nervously. Zak poked again at the corpse. It was strange how it had just attacked like that. It was almost as if it were…

…A distraction. His head snapped back to the camp. He could see Tassadar and Zeratul clearly, as well as other Protoss and the occasional human…

But no Isha.

"Shit," he hissed, his legs powering him down the slope at incredible speed. He didn't stop until he was directly in front of the two alien commanders.

"Where's Isha?!" he bellowed, rage and panic turning his words into a near incomprehensible roar.

_She stayed behind with the guard._ There was worry, too, in Tassadar's voice.

"Well, she isn't with the fuckin' guard! Where is she?!"

The Executer's cobalt eyes grew wide with horror. _She is not…?_

"No, she's not… ah, fuck!" Zak took off again, not bothering to see if the Protoss were going to help or not. She had to be somewhere, maybe she'd cloaked again, maybe she was safe…

He could feel the all-too-familiar sensation in his head growing stronger. Ulrezaj was close…

He saw her. She was being led up a rocky slope by a strange man…

The man was wearing Ghost armor. _His_ armor.

In fact, the man was _him._

He hesitated in startled confusion. How could it be?

Then the figures disappeared amongst the rocks. Zak uttered a powerful curse, then tore after them.

He could put two and two together. He knew full well who the man actually was.

He was going to kill him. He wasn't going to let him take her again.

She tried to scream as his claws casually tore her clothes, ripping them off her body and cutting slices of her flesh as well, but he placed a huge paw over her mouth, effectively gagging her. _Now, now… you mustn't do that._

_Get off of me! GET THE FUCK _OFF_ OF ME!_

_My my, you certainly have grown bold… something tells me you need to be punished._

NO!

She lunged, slashing at his eyes the way Zak taught her to do, but her Master moved at that moment, jerking his head back so she scraped his cheekbone instead. His eyes flashed with rage; the next moment her head cracked against the wall, effectively stunning her; then she felt the cold sting of a knife sliding along the flesh on her back in a precise pattern. _You are mine, my pet—MINE! My slave!_

He whirled, pressing her against him. _Come out little Terran!_

"Let her go," growled a familiar voice.

_Why would I want to do that? She is mine._ He turned her around, showing him the giant symbol across her back. _She is _mine!

Zak's insides writhed in disgust. A cold, deadly sensation spread throughout his body.

_Kill him,_ it screamed, _kill him!_

His rifle snapped up and, without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

_She is mine,_ the monster hissed, stepping forward and casting Isha's limp body aside. _You took her away from me, little Terran. My favorite toy, and you played with her without asking._

He pulled the trigger again, and with the same result. Ulrezaj grabbed it from him and smashed it against the rocky wall of the cavern. Zak drew his knife, but the alien was faster, the bloodstained blade driving home into his shoulder, his free arm pinned against the wall.

_You dare challenge me, Terran? You dare take what is mine and expect to keep it?_ The crazed monster twisted the knife, reveling in Zak's choked cries of agony. _You are a fool!_ He yanked the blade out, kicking Zak to the floor. _You are weak!_

The knife came down again, and Zak just barely avoided a beheading. He tapped his belt, disappearing from sight.

_That trick doesn't work on me!_ A large, clawed hand grabbed for his throat, just missing its target. Zak picked up his knife and slashed across the creature's thigh.

Power. He needed power. He needed power or he would die. He'd die and Isha would be forced back into hell. But how? Where? What?

There.

A swirl of cold energy built up around Ulrezaj. _I tire of this little game,_ he spat, and Zak was thrown to the ceiling, a thousand invisible nails driving themselves into his chest. He gripped desperately to the vial in his hands—the one that he had stolen from Ulrezaj.

He crunched to the ground, barely able to breathe. He fingered the vial. "Isha," he gasped, "if you can hear me, run."

He drove the needle home.

Overdose. Fire sped through his veins, numbing his wounds, focusing his thoughts.

Kill Ulrezaj. Kill that bastard.

The drug made Isha lose control. He, however, was a different story.

He was a weapon.

And now, he had ammunition.

He rolled to the side, dodging another blow that would have killed him. It was remarkably easy. He leapt to his feet, his wounds forgotten. He felt great, just as good as when he was with Isha. No, better! A wild, animal grin spread beneath his mask.

Kill Ulrezaj.

He lunged.

Isha remained where she was, her body throbbing. The cold pain of the knife's wound, combined with the harsh, hot rock grinding into it, and the various cuts and massive bruise where she had landed when he had thrown her melded together into one horrible mass of agony. She let out a sob, curling up into herself.

Around her, a battle raged. Slave Dark Templar had appeared, and attacked the other Templar and the Terrans who had come to the rescue. Battle-screams and gunfire ricocheted around the cavern until it was just one big roar of noise. Blood stained the rocks—some of it was hers, she knew. She didn't do anything about it—what could she do?

Hands grabbed her; turned her roughly over.

_Time to go, my pet._

Zak moved with incredible speed and power, focused on his purpose. Enemies and allies alike fell before him—they didn't matter.

Kill Ulrezaj.

He closed in on his target, and immediately they clashed. He saw Isha hit the ground, falling limply in the ashes. It didn't register.

Kill Ulrezaj.

He matched Ulrezaj blow for blow, ignoring any wounds the Protoss managed to inflict. He was invincible! There was something in the alien's burning eyes—fear! He was afraid of him! The thought brought him delight.

A sparking blade arched over his head. He casually bent low, amused as it swept above him in slow motion. Ulrezaj was pathetic, really. The attack had left his left side open. Without hesitation, Zak went for it, delivering strike after strike after strike.

Kill Ulrezaj. _Kill_ him! _Kill_ the bastard! He'd hurt Isha! He'd _touched_ her! _Nobody_ touched her! He'd marked her! He'd marked her and branded her like she was his! He didn't own her! No, he didn't own all! _He_ wasn't the one she'd come running to, _he_ wasn't the one she would stay with and lie with and no he didn't own her he didn't have her she didn't belong to him no he'd _touched_ her he couldn't touch her he didn't own her she hadn't come to him she hadn't loved him she hadn't _given herself_ to him kill him kill him _kill_—

Zak's body cracked against a boulder. Ulrezaj had managed to shake him off, and now roared with rage, preparing to attack. Zak was ready—more than ready! This was his chance! This was where he would finally get him! He was going to kill him! It would be easy! He'd kill him and it'd be easy and then Isha would be safe! She'd be safe and no one would ever touch her because she was his! _She was his!_

Ulrezaj was tired of the game. Until now, he had fought physically, using all his Protoss strength and speed, but now...

Now was the time to end it.

He gathered his power, and released it, watching the Terran's body fly through the air with satisfaction. Damned Terran.

He turned. Isha was lying where he'd dropped her, and, smiling, he went over to take her.

A shadow fell over him.

_ULREZAJ!_ Zeratul bellowed, his warp blade sparking to life. The two Protoss lunged at each other, eyes flashing, dancing along with their blades.

Zeratul was taking the kill.

"NO!" Zak shrieked, forcing himself to get up and flying at Zeratul. "NO! NO, YOU CAN'T FIGHT HIM! _I_ WANT TO KILL HIM! I PROMISED! I ALMOST HAD HIM AND YOU—"

The old Protoss tried to kick him away. _Terran, stand aside! This is no longer your fight!_

"SHUT UP I'LL KILL HIM I'LL—"

Ulrezaj was gone. Zak whirled in rage, lashing out with renewed zeal. "YOU LET HIM GET AWAY! I ALMOST HAD HIM AND YOU LET HIM GET AWAY!"

_Listen to yourself, Terran! You are mad! Can you not see you are dying as you stand?_

"SHUT UP YOU LET HIM GET AWAY YOU FUCKING BASTARD IT'S YOUR FAULT I COULD HAVE KILLED HIM AND—" He noticed a flash of golden armor.

It was Tassadar, bent over Isha, reaching out to her, TOUCHING her!

"DON'T YOU FUCKING _TOUCH_ HER!" Zak shoved the blue-eyed alien aside. He clung to Isha's body, pulling her into his chest, glaring wildly at the Protoss commander. "Don't touch her," he hissed savagely. "Don't even _look_ at her! She came to _me!_ You can't have her! She came to _me!_"

Shaking. Why was he shaking? Why couldn't he stop shaking? Why couldn't he feel his left arm? Cold, cold, so damn cold. Why was he so cold?

"Zak," Isha whispered, blood bubbling from her lips. "Zak..."

He was clutching her tightly; he was hurting her, her back... her entire _body..._ He probably couldn't hear her anyway; he was shaking, his hands clenched tightly, trembling from something she couldn't discern.

Tassadar reared back in surprise, staring down at the maddened Ghost and his prize. _Terran, let her go and stop this insanity! You are dying—_

"Shut up, shut the fuck up..." He was rocking now, heaving with exhaustion and clutching her tighter than ever. "She's mine, she's mine—"

Zeratul drifted to the side, vanishing silently and Zak, gasping for breath, didn't notice until a hand reached out from the darkness and touched his brow. He jerked, trying to reach for his knife, then collapsed.

Isha felt hands on her again; Protoss hands. "No Master please don't... don't take m—"

_Hush, young one... hush._ She was lifted; she was being cradled in large, muscular arms. Two pairs of eyes gazed down at her—one green, one blue.

"Wh...Master... where...?"

_He is gone, little one,_ Zeratul whispered in her mind. _He has fled._

"Zak..."

_Hush now. Sleep, and dream..._

Zak lay flat on a cot, his left arm in a makeshift cast, in a tent all to himself.

Quarantined.

A good idea, considering he'd nearly strangled a hapless technician, effectively removed a tooth from Zyhowski's jaw using only his fist, and implanted a scalpel into someone's hand. They finally decided it was best to leave him alone.

But he didn't _want_ to be alone. He wanted Isha.

He was asleep again, shivering, gasping for breath. His eyes darted back and forth beneath his eyelids, and beads of sweat rolled down his brow.

Dark phantoms were dancing before him. Some were as formless as shadows, but others had faces, names…

Isha! Isha! Where was Isha?! Where?!

Someone was coming. His eyes snapped open, staring straight ahead, unmoving.

"Okay, let's see how you're doing," a female voice said. He dimly recognized it as the medic.

"Get out," he rasped.

"Look, buddy—"

"Get out! Get out get out get _out!_" He leapt to his feet, and immediately doubled over as he was overcome by a wave of nausea. His stomach lurched, and his whole body burned. His head throbbed with merciless agony. His movable hand clutched his face, which was twisted into a pained snarl.

"Just… get out," he hissed though his teeth.

"You need help," the woman insisted.

"I'm fine. I want Isha. You aren't Isha. Get out."

"Are you not getting what I'm telling you here?"

With a roar, Zak lunged forward, barely able to keep his balance. "GET OUT!"

The medic finally got the message, and quickly ducked out of the tent. Zak glared at the flap for a moment, making sure she was gone for good. Then, when he could hold it in no longer, he fell to his knees and heaved. Bile splattered onto the floor, and he shakily hoisted himself up and onto the cot, his head thrumming with increased vigor. The effort left him gasping for breath.

"Isha," he whispered over and over between breaths. "Isha… Isha… Isha…"

_Child, wake._

Her back...

"Hey, leave her—"

_Do you wish for her mate to die?_

"Go away," she whispered hoarsely. "I want..."

"Zak. Yeah, I guessed. Look, honey, your hubby won't let us near him..."

Immediately her body moved as if on its own, her legs swinging out from under the sweat-soaked sheet and heaving itself upright. Instantly, agony burned through her and she nearly fell.

"No, honey! Stay down, everything will be—"

_Silence. Child, look at me..._

She tried. Really, she did. Glowing eyes locked onto hers, but she didn't know who it was. Tassadar? Zeratul? She couldn't tell.

_Terran, give her water._

Something pressed to her lips. Obediently she took a sip, swallowing the ashy liquid until whoever-it-was took it away. Hands lifted her up, setting her gently on her feet, and pulled at her arm.

Her back her back her _back..._

They exited the tent, staggering through the thick white ash and the rocks, until they entered another tent.

"Zak...?"

He jerked his head up, his pain forgotten. His sickly pale, sweat-covered face immediately brightened. "Isha!"

He stumbled to his feet, grabbing the cot for support. "Isha, are you okay?" He made his way over to her, struggling to keep his body under control. "I didn't know what happened to you, Isha, and I thought you might be gone…" A trembling, white hand reached out to touch her face. "But you're safe now, Isha. You're here."

Another wave of nausea gripped his insides. He grimaced and bent over, clutching his stomach.

"Zak," he heard her breathe.

With a weak smile, he looked up at her. "Don't worry, Isha, I'm fine. You're here."

Isha knew immediately what had happened. "Oh Zak—"

_He took the drug. Oh no..._

She turned and nearly fell; Protoss hands held her upright—she still couldn't tell if it was Zeratul or Tassadar. "He won't... die... will he?"

_No child, he will not. However, you and he will be transported immediately to the _Gantrithor _for treatment; and you will stay there until we depart this wretched world._

"But..." She slumped, holding onto the cot, and made her way until she sat next to Zak, holding his hand. "Why are you..."

A sigh. _You leave within the hour._

"...helping us?"

_My reasons are not important, other than you need treatment that is not available here._

"I'm fine," Zak grunted, gripping Isha's hand with all his might, shooting a powerful glare in Tassadar's direction. "You don't touch her."

The great alien shook his head and stepped outside.

Zak shifted until his body touched Isha's. "Don't let him touch you, Isha. I hate it, Isha. I hate it. Nobody can touch you, Isha. Just me. Just me and nobody else. Nobody else, Isha. Nobody."

He had let go of her hand and now stroked her hair, over and over, obsessively. They couldn't touch her. They couldn't have her. Just him. She was his.

She twisted away, frightened. "Zak, please... you're acting like him. You're acting just like him!"

He wouldn't let go. His hands moved over her, and with a sickening wrenching feeling she bore it. It felt just like her Master; just like he used to do...

With a whimper Isha pulled away, jerking from his obsessive clutches and ran outside, where she collapsed against Tassadar, burying her face in his robe. Her back, her back... and Zak was acting so scary... her _back..._

_Child,_ the Executor said softly, his blue eyes filled with pity.

"He's just like him," Isha sobbed. "He's acting just like him!"

_He is unwell,_ he replied, _and will recover, given time._

Tassadar could only hope his words were true.

_A teenaged boy with hazel eyes and short, brown hair stared at a practice target, his mouth slightly open in disbelief._

_He missed. He never missed. Never._

_With a determined grunt, he re-cocked the blaster and aimed again. He waited until the weapon steadied, then fired. Then fired again. And again. And again. He fired and fired until there was nothing left of the target. Then swung the gun over to the next target, hitting the bull's eye dead on. And the next. And the next. And the next. When he'd shot them all dead-center, he began to destroy them one by one, shooting until there was nothing left._

_He missed. He never missed. He couldn't miss._

_"Twenty-seven!" a voice barked._

_The boy snapped to attention. "Sir."_

_"What the hell was that!?"_

_He cringed. "Lack of self control, sir."_

_"Mind telling me why?"_

_"I… I missed sir. I don't miss. Ever. I can't miss. But I missed. I never miss. I don't…"_

_"That's enough. You're done for the day."_

_"Yes, sir."_

Inside the tent, Zak shrieked. "ISHA!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs, sending himself into more nauseous convulsions and feeling like his head would explode. "ISHA! COME BACK! COME BACK! ISHA, DON'T LEAVE! YOU CAN'T LEAVE! YOU CAN'T! DON'T LEAVE ME! PLEASE! ISHA!" He collapsed forward on the bunk, moaning and sobbing pathetically, too weak to chase after her.

"Isha, come back, come back..."

This only served for Isha to clutch Tassadar tighter, wanting to go to him, wanting to comfort him and tell him it was all right—but terrified of him.

_He needs you,_ Tassadar murmured, hands gently working her fingers from the thick fabric. _He needs you to stay calm, Isha... for his sake... go to him._

He finally succeeded in prying Isha's hands from his cloak, and, with a slight nod and a quiet sob, she stumbled back in.

"Zak...?"

He lunged so fast she had hardly time to jump in surprise before he grabbed her, pulling her tight against him. "Don't leave me again, Isha! Don't leave me again!"

Her heart pounded with fear; she pushed it down and concentrated instead on trying to work him off her agonizing back. "You're hurting me, please, Zak..."

Of course he didn't let go; only collapsed back into the cot, flumping into the pillow and cradling her against his chest. "You're mine, Isha, no one else's. You agree, right? You agree? You're mine. No one can touch you, Isha; I hate it, you're _mine..._"

"Yes, Zak!" she cried, tears streaming down her face as she felt the giant wound break open again. "Yes I agree; please Zak let go of me..."

He gentled his hold, but only a little; blood stained her shirt and his hands. Her blood. "Zak, I'm okay; you're okay; we're going to be fine... please... let go..."

"Shh. You're mine."

She fell silent, shaking with pain.

She didn't know how long they stayed there, Zak's ragged breathing finally smoothing over, when Tassadar's voice broke through her drifting thoughts.

_The Shuttle has arrived, young one... prepare yourself._

"We need to go," Isha said quietly, pushing against him to sit up.

"Go?" Zak stared up at her, utterly confused. Why should they go? They were here. They were safe. They were okay.

She bit her lip. "Tassadar's going to help us. We're going back up to his ship."

"But I don't _want_ to go. He'll touch you, Isha. You'll leave me again." He began pulling her back down to him, where she belonged, where she should always be.

Isha gasped in pain. "Zak, stop it! You're hurting me!"

"Isha, you know I can't hurt you. I'd never hurt you, Isha. Stay with me. You're mine, you said so, Isha, you're mine and I'd never hurt you and…" He went rigid. He saw blood. Isha was crying. Blood and crying. No…

"Isha?" he croaked.

"Just stop it," she muttered. "It hurts."

It didn't make sense. He'd never hurt her. He couldn't hurt her. Why was she hurting? Who could have done this? Who!? Tassadar, it must have been Tassadar, it had to be, he was trying to take her away from him…

But it could have been Zeratul. Yes, Zeratul. She liked him better. She always went to him. Why did she like him better? He was trying to take her away, too…

Raynor, Zyhowski, it could have been anyone. Who?!

His face twisted into an enraged grimace. "Who hurt you? Tell me who hurt you, Isha. Tell me so I can kill them."

She shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Zak, I can't…"

"Tell me!"

She broke into a wave of sobs, unable to stand it anymore. "It was _you_," she cried, "you hurt me!"

"No!" He jerkily sat up, igniting the fire in his head and his gut once again. "No, no, no, no, I can't, I can't, _I can't…_"

He'd hurt her. He should die. No one could hurt her. He should just die. But then he couldn't be with her, he couldn't protect her from anyone and they'd all take her away and touch her and…

"I… Isha, but I _can't_ hurt you!"

"You did."

"No…"

"I'm sorry."

He stared blankly into space. He hurt her! How could he!? He _needed_ her, he couldn't hurt her…

"Zak, we need to go."

He closed his eyes. Everything was burning. Everything was so cold…

"You'll stay with me?" he said softly, touching her cheek.

The look in her eyes was so strange. Pain, fear, love, pity… "Yes, Zak, I'll stay with you."

"Okay." He stumbled to his feet, every nerve in his body screaming in protest. He scowled, then looked over at Isha, tugging his face into a sad little grin. "As long as you stay with me, then it's okay. Just don't let anybody touch you, okay, Isha? Nobody."

She nodded weakly, sniffing away the last of her sobs.

"Nobody," he repeated, waiting for her to nod again.

"Not even me."

She stared at him, eyes slightly widened with surprise, then gave a final nod.

"Nobody's gonna hurt you, Isha. Not even me." He reached for her hand, then stopped himself. He wanted to touch her so much; she was all he wanted, the only thing… But he couldn't hurt her. He hated it.

He stumbled towards the exit. "Let's go."

Zak kept a close eye on Isha as they stepped out of the tent; as soon as Tassadar came into view he went rigid again and moved in between them. The alien ignored this, stepping towards the descending spacecraft almost daintily, yet Isha noticed he also kept a close eye on her. She shook her head. Everywhere she went people had to "watch out" for her. She was weak, she had to be _watched,_ she...

_No, child,_ Tassadar said firmly, though he did not pursue the subject any more.

The craft landed. Tassadar stood to the side of it as the ramp lowered, then looked at both of them, a firm sort of look in his eyes.

_In light of what happened before, the Terran will not be allowed his weapons. They are already confiscated, but do not try to reclaim them. They are not on the_ Gantrithor, _so do not try to find them._

Isha nodded, glancing at Zak. He wasn't listening, instead glaring fiercely at a Marine who wandered too close. Tassadar sighed, and gestured to the ramp.

Her eyes sought out Zeratul. He was crouched as usual, hunched over in his little ball of darkness, but as soon as her eyes alight on him he opened his own, settling them on her. He nodded slightly, offering her a small smile, then turned back to meditating.

They entered the ship.

Getting up the ramp was quite a challenge. Zak's head pounded, his stomach twisted, and every other part of him burned. He had little to no control over his legs, and continuously fell over on himself, hissing "I'm fine" and "don't touch me" at anyone who tried to help him up.

Aboard the ship, he collapsed into a quivering ball, remaining as close to Isha as possible without touching her. He rocked back and forth, twitching, sweating, and muttering darkly to himself. His wide, unnaturally cold eyes glared at anything that moved.

"Fine I'm fine I'm _fine_ Isha don't worry _nobody touches her_ I'm _fine_ don't _touch_ her don't touch her she's _mine_ nobody touches her I'm fine Isha don't _touch_ her it's okay she's mine she's _mine_ Isha…"

His maddened gaze fell on her. Isha. His. All his. Nobody else's. He'd protect her from them. Yes, he'd keep them away so they couldn't get her. He'd kill them all. Kill them and then there would be nobody left but him and Isha and they'd be together like they were supposed to and nothing would ever hurt her because she was his all his…

The shuttle opened. Two Protoss stepped aboard and bowed. Tassadar lowered his head in approval.

_Protoss, enemies, kill them, they'll hurt Isha get away get AWAY!_ Zak leapt to his feet, shouting incomprehensibly and hurling himself in their direction. They were a threat! They were going to touch Isha!

Isha cried out his name and he saw Tassadar reach out and grab him by his bandaged shoulder, cobalt eyes flashing…

… And then the lights went out.

The first thing Zak felt upon awakening was the sensation of being utterly hung over.

Had he been drunk? No, he didn't drink. Besides, he'd get one hell of a beating if he were ever caught with liquor. The Program liked their lab rats clean. Maybe they'd put him under the knife again without telling him. They'd done it more than once. On some days he just woke up with his head shaved or strange bandages on him that weren't there before…

He kept his eyes closed, savoring the silence. Any minute now the alarm would go off and he'd be up doing his routine and listening to the list of people they wanted dead today… An assignment was better than tests any day. They left you alone when you were out in the field—for the most part, anyway.

The alarm didn't go off. Had he slept though it? Impossible.

It wasn't silent, either. There was a strange buzz in the back of his mind, something familiar… It was probably just a side effect of whatever they'd most recently done to him. As if the headache wasn't bad enough...

He took another moment to straighten out his head. _Weapon. I am a weapon. Number 27, Ghost. My purpose is to protect._

Protect? That can't be right. He didn't protect; he _killed!_

But it was his _purpose…_

_Isha is the objective. All other goals are secondary._

Huh? Isha? What's Isha? A codename? Why was his brain telling him this? Did he always think this way?

Yes. Yes, he did. Isha was the priority. Isha was always the priority. He was a fool to question it. His purpose was to protect. That had always been his purpose.

It had to be the Program messing with him again. But didn't he get up every morning asking the same questions? Didn't every morning mean wondering whether or not he had free will?

Unimportant. Isha is important. Protect Isha.

What the hell is Isha?!

Everything!

His eyes refused to open, but he could tell he wasn't in his bunk… or the operating room, for that matter. Where, then?

He tried to sit up, but found he couldn't even move. Where was he? What was happening? Why couldn't he move?

Fragments of memory floated before him, and slowly he pieced them together. Zerg, Protoss, Char, the Confederacy, Mengsk, Raynor, Isha, Isha was pregnant, Ulrezaj, a dark cave…

And then nothing. The last thing he could remember was telling Isha to run as he felt something prick his arm.

Isha! Was she okay? What happened?! Ulrezaj, where was he? He hadn't gotten her, had he?

Zak tried to speak, but only managed a strange croaking sound. Licking his lips, he tried again. Nothing. He couldn't move, he couldn't talk, he couldn't do anything.

Where was he? What happened? Why couldn't he move?

_Though I believe it may have the brain fluid and capacity of a Protoss for the Khala... you said you "felt" the voices? Yes, it does have a brain with more surface mass; look at the crevasses between the two hemispheres..._

Isha's face was set in a permanent scowl as the Protoss healers and scientists ran test after test over her and muttered to each other and called her "it" over and over again. Tassadar had finally given them permission to study her, and they were taking full advantage of that...

Like it was HIS choice?! Like HE was in charge of her body?! She clenched her fists, being careful not to cut her palms on her claws. Tassadar had tried to explain to her the great advantages of having a hybrid such as her studied; they could find things out that they hadn't known before. Though she had no idea what he meant; what the hell would they find? Nothing! She was just a girl; she was just Isha, just a slave...

Her back itched and she reached around to ease it, shrugging off the healer who tried to intervene and tell her it wasn't good for a cut such as that. It was practically healed, anyway; a benefit of Protoss technology. All that was left was a scar; she would be forever scarred as such.

Branded.

"Ow! Watch it!"

_I told your mate, it would be easier if you held still..._

Isha glared at the red-eyed healer. "Different tool! Different person! What the hell _is_ that, anyway?!"

_I wish to extract brain matter from—_

"NO FUCKING WAY."

_Why must you Terrans be so difficult?_

"Difficult? YOU WANT TO STICK THAT IN MY BRAIN!"

_I assure you, you will feel nothing..._

"That's not the freaking point! I'm _not_ your _lab rat_!" Isha leapt off the table and backed away, arms folded firmly across her chest. "You can stick that up your—"

Another Protoss stepped in behind her. _Head Healer, the other Terran is awake._

She spun. "I need to see him!"

The other frowned down at her. _That is not advisable; he is still in a very delicate state. Seeing you may trigger a relapse. It is best if you stayed away from him for now._

"The hell I will!"

_You,_ the red-eyed one said flatly, grabbing her arm and shoving her back on the table, _will remain here. And you _will _comply with our wishes._

"Fuck YOU!"

Isha bleeding. Ulrezaj. A fight. Pain. And then…

Nothing. Isha could be _dead!_ She could be back with Ulrezaj! Hell, she could be _anywhere!_ What the hell had _happened?!_

_Okay. Breathe. Relax,_ Zak told himself. _Panic won't get you anywhere._

He tried again to open his eyes, and this time had some success. Light flooded in, sending his head reeling. Quickly, he shut them, cringing from the pain. His head felt like it was being run over by a _tank…_

_Stay calm. Focus on something else._

Experimenting, he found he could move his wrists and fingers, although it seemed like every joint had been bathed in cement. Determined, he raised his right arm barely a centimeter, then let it flop back down, lacking the strength to lift it any further. The impact sent a shock of pain up his shoulder. He groaned weakly.

_It is awakening,_ a voice said, its suddenness renewing the throbbing agony in Zak's skull. _Get the Head Healer._

_Immediately,_ came an equally painful reply, and the soft swishing of robes and quiet footsteps grated on his ears as the unseen Protoss left. Zak assumed they were Protoss, anyway.

Bracing himself, he slowly opened his eyes one more time. The light was as bright and painful as before, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to endure it. After the initial shock subsided, he began to recognize his surroundings.

He was in the medical ward in one of the Protoss ships. _Again._

Making another quiet, groaning noise, he lifted his head, which had suddenly quadrupled in weight.

_Rest, Terran,_ a Protoss ordered. _You have yet to fully recover._

_From what?_ he thought bitterly, his neck finally giving out and leaving his head to fall back against what must have been the hardest substance in the universe. "Nngh!" he winced, the inside of his head ringing.

_You should be able to move within a few hours,_ the unseen Protoss stated matter-of-factly. _Until then, rest._

Zak had little choice but to obey. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but did not fall back asleep. His thoughts kept wandering back to Isha—was she okay? Was she even _alive?!_ For now, he could only hope.

Remaining silent and motionless, he caught fragments of the conversation around him.

_Sir, these neural connections are not normal…_

_They do not exist in nature…_

_It has been… altered…_

_What…_

_Can only… insanity…_

Slipping back into a doze, he wondered vaguely if they were talking about him…

Isha awaited the return of the "Head Healer," given a bit of respite from the probes and the prodding, as the other Healers didn't dare do anything without clearance from him. Instead, they ignored her utterly, gazing at maps and charts of her brain and fiddling with instruments that had, for what she could see, her blood in it...

She wanted Zak. She wanted to be with him, lie with him, forget the battle had ever happened... Staring at the ground, Isha fidgeted endlessly, crossing her arms and uncrossing them; kicking her feet against the bunk; ignoring the annoyed glances of the Protoss around her. Why couldn't they just leave them alone for a freaking change...?

The door whooshed open, and in flowed Tassadar. _I will be leaving for Char,_ he stated calmly, gazing at her. _Hopefully we will be able to leave the world soon, and you can rejoin your kind._

Her eyes narrowed. "That's great. Tell them to get the _hell_ away from me."

Tassadar blinked. _I gave them permission to study your body, Isha—_

"Yeah, well, it's not _your_ body to give that kind of permission, _is it?!_" she yelled, leaping from the bed again. "How dare you—how _dare_ you give permission like that! It's not your body, it's not your _baby_, and you have no fucking _right!_"

Her hands were shaking. She needed her drug. Tassadar was being an asshole. Zak had been taken away from her. Tassadar was being an _asshole._ They wanted to extract brain matter from her. Tassadar was an ASSHOLE!

Tassadar sighed deeply. _You are correct. It was not my decision to make, and I do not deserve any forgiveness on your part. However…_ His blazing sapphire eyes focused on Isha. _If you would allow the studies to continue, it would be most appreciated. You are very unique, Isha, and the more we learn about you, the more we can help you and your child. Please consider it._ Bowing and excusing himself, the Executor turned to leave. He gave a quick order to one of the scientists, who immediately set about preparing a dose of _aisine_. Then, with a final twirl of his robes, he was gone.

Talidor's red-eyes scanned the charts with genuine concern. _This is quite the complication,_ he mused. _And how did you come across this?_

_Sir, we were tracking the effects of the aisine, and…_ A lower-ranking healer fidgeted nervously. _… We discovered these strange connections… They cannot be natural, can they?_

_They are indeed artificial,_ Talidor replied, _No doubt the result of the "neural resocialization" that the Terrans are so proud of… But I have never seen it have such a drastic effect…_ Leaning closer, he squinted, his scaly face inches away from the display. He saw not one, but two types of strange neural connections. The first kind was the most drastic—they rewired entire regions of the brain, as if to block off or cover up certain areas. Odd.

The second kind of unnatural configuration was a bit subtler. They existed, for the most part, in the blocked regions, and had only drawn his attention because they were so separated. Examining them closer, he realized why they had been cut off…

But that wasn't the most startling discovery. What frightened Talidor more than anything was what was happening to the first type of connections—the blocks.

They were breaking down.

_Sir,_ another healer said quietly, what do they mean?

Talidor straightened himself. _It can only mean one thing._ He glared at the now-sleeping Terran, red eyes alight with fascinated astonishment. _Insanity._

_Sir?_

_Keep a close eye on it. I have something I must attend to._ Talidor stepped quickly out of the room, making a beeline for the other Terran—the female. He knew full well the message the charts had shown him. The male had been altered through some strange process, and the changes had gone too far. The buffers must have been the result of a second treatment, a desperate attempt to keep the devastating side effects covered up.

And now, the beast was breaking free of its cage.

_Terran,_ he barked upon reaching his destination. _I need to speak with you. Now._ Not waiting for a response, he shooed the rest of the workers away, his crimson eyes locked on Isha's. _Tell me all you know about the male, especially its behavior. How has it changed since you first met?_

Isha took a step back at his vehemence and bit her lip. "Yeah..."

_Tell me._

"He keeps... going into this... weapon mode. Last time, he pushed me away completely, and almost trying to... I dunno. Hurting me, then saying he's sorry."

She looked at him fearfully. "Why? What's wrong with him? Can I see him again?"

The red-eyed healer's gaze dropped to the floor. _Your mate is… unstable. Its—pardon, _his_—mind has been significantly altered… But there is too much we do not yet know. I am afraid you cannot see him until we understand exactly what is happening…_

"What? Unstable?! _Altered?!_" Isha went pale, her mouth opening. "Well—then I have to see him—"

_No, wait—_

She shoved past him, leaping through the doors and bolting down the short white hallway to his room. How she knew where he was, she had no idea, but she didn't care to question that now.

_Terran!_

Isha ignored the cry of the Head Healer and pushed a few other confused Protoss out of the way, to see Zak lying on the table, completely naked except for a few bandages. He was unnaturally pale...

"Zak!" She bolted to him, pressing her hands to his chest. "Zak! _Zak!_"

Pain!

Writhing and gasping, he reached out with shaking hands and grabbed hold of whatever it was that attacking him…

His eyes opened, and he slowly registered what he was seeing.

"Isha," he whispered, letting go of her wrists and staring at her face, utterly stupefied. He'd forgotten how beautiful she really was…

His weak arms found the strength to wrap around her, pulling her in and embracing her. She was safe. That was all that mattered.

_He's okay, he's okay, he's okay..._ Isha pressed her face into his chest, crying, but now with relief. "Zak, they said—"

Rough hands grabbed her, pulled her off. With a cry, Isha slashed at them, only to find her hands pinned to her sides. "No! No, don't, I have to—"

_I told you to stay away from him!_ Talidor snapped, yanking her around to stare at him. _You soft-skins—_

"Let me go!"

_Do I have to tranquilize you?!_

"No! Get off!" She writhed, desperate, trying to go back to him. "Zak! _Zak!_ Get off of me!"

Zak grabbed pathetically at the air in front of him, letting out a small whimper. The red-eyed Protoss was taking her away…

No.

All of a sudden, the pain was gone. The grogginess, the weakness, all vanished.

No, they can't take her. They can't _touch_ her!

He was on his feet, ignoring the surprised cries of the Protoss around him.

A threat. Eliminate it.

The healer had pulled out a syringe, and it was moving in slow motion towards Isha's skin.

In a split second, the needle reversed direction as Zak ripped it from his grasp and jammed it into Talidor's hand.

"Don't touch her," he hissed as the Protoss slumped over, slowly losing consciousness. Shoving the healer aside, he gathered up Isha, reveling in the warmth of her body against his. His cold eyes scanned the room.

_Get out,_ a strange voice said. Was it his? He didn't know. Nonetheless the other Protoss quickly shuffled away. Zak smirked as he watched them go. They would probably call the soldiers for help. _Let 'em,_ he thought. _I'll kill 'em all._

But for now, Isha was safe.

"There, see? They're gone now," he said softly to Isha, lifting her chin to kiss her. "They can't hurt you."

She wrapped her hands around his head, preventing him from pulling away. "You're all right..."

"Of course I'm all right. I love you," he murmured, sitting down and cradling her on his lap. She nuzzled his chest, smiling happily. They were together again...

...But not for long. Zealots suddenly filed into the room, and Isha let out a small cry, trembling. They were going to take her away from him again!

_Terran, let go of the female. Now._

Zak smiled, almost confidently. "No."

_Terran, you will release the female._

He stood up. "Why? So you can have her? Heh. Sorry, buddy. She's not yours."

_We were ordered not to kill you, but if it is necessary…_

"Aw, I didn't know you cared," Zak said sarcastically, his mind reaching out for the Zealot who had spoken. "Now, take your friends and get out of here… or I'll tell them what happened to your poor little daughter."

The warrior stumbled back. _What? How…?_

His face set in more of a snarl than a grin, Zak stepped forward. "Yeah, I know all about it, Ruhlza. Little Gi'Lei, right? Bad luck on that one…" He stopped just inches away from the warrior's face. "It still hurts, doesn't it?"

With a roar, Ruhlza lunged forward. Zak stepped aside, watching the Protoss go crashing past him. So Protoss were strong; who cared? They were predictable. A fight followed, in which Zak suffered a few minor wounds and Ruhlza was practically unharmed, but instead of engaging, the other Zealots dragged their maddened brother away. It was fun to listen to him cursing as he was dragged…

_How dare you! You shall die, Terran! Die and be forever lost!_

Zak resumed his place alongside Isha. "Bunch of idiots, aren't they? I can't believe I had so much trouble with 'em before…"

"Was... was that wise?"

"Was what wise?"

"You... and them..."

"They were going to take you away, Isha. Remember?" He smiled and stroked her face. "They can't be doing that now. You're mine."

She flinched. "Please, Zak... don't say that."

"Why not? It's true. You're mine and they can't have you."

She was about to respond when the door opened again... and in strode Xan'Iir.

Isha let out a whimper. There was no way Zak could fight off a High Templar...

Zak tensed. "You," he spat. "Get the fuck out."

_Be still,_ Xan'Iir said simply, lifting a hand so that her palm was facing him. _Fighting me is futile._

"GET OUT!" Zak shrieked. "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!" He flew forward like an enraged animal, shouting out a mixture of threats, curses, and bestial noises.

Xan'Iir barely flinched, sending out a small burst of psychic energy that sent the maddened Terran tumbling to the ground.

"Zak!" Isha cried, leaping forward.

_He is not dead. Leave him._

"I can't—"

_It is unsafe for anyone to be near him now. Come._

Isha shot Xan'Iir a look of pure venom. It was easy enough to read the half-blood's thoughts—she did not trust her.

_I am under a direct order to spare both your lives. You need to come with me._

"If you think I'm gonna—"

_This is not the first time he has lost control._

Isha's expression changed from anger to surprise. "What?"

_Let me show you._ Xan'Iir called up a stolen memory. Before the Terran could react, she reached out and touched her forehead.

_"I… I missed sir. I don't miss. Ever. I can't miss. But I missed. I never miss. I don't…"_

_"That's enough. You're done for the day."_

_"Yes, sir." The boy grudgingly tromped out of the shooting range. Missed. He never missed. Unable to take it, he whirled around and began firing again._

_"Twenty-seven, I ordered you to stop!"_

_He ignored the officer, pumping shot after shot into the already devastated targets. "See? I don't miss! I can't miss! Look! I never miss! I—"_

_The officer grabbed his shoulder. "Stop, boy! You're done!"_

_"No!" Zak whirled and pulled the trigger. The officer gasped as the bullet tore through his arm. "I don't miss! I don't! Ever!" He leveled the gun, pointing it at the officer's head. "Never ever!"_

_The wounded officer fumbled for his earpiece. "Quick! Twenty-seven's relapsing! Get help! Get—"_

_A bang, then the man fell silent._

_"See? I told you. I don't miss."_

_And then they were dragging him away. He thrashed and kicked and bit and screamed. "No no NO don't do it again I hate it I HATE IT see look I didn't miss again I don't NEED it don't need resoc again I'll be good don't resoc me I didn't miss LET GO OF ME!"_

Isha shuddered, clutching Zak's arm and yanking away from Xan'Iir's outstretched hand. "No!"

_Staying with him is dangerous._

"No! I won't leave him!"

_You must enjoy sleeping,_ the High Templar replied coolly, _for you continuously have us force you into unconsciousness._

Isha tensed. "You... you..."

_I will. Would you like a demonstration?_

She shook her head jerkily and let out a small, pained sob. "I... I can't leave him..."

Her hands went to her belly almost automatically, and she bit her lip. What would happen to her baby if it grew in a single-parent household? What would it do?

Glancing back up at Xan'Iir, she saw that the Protoss' face had gentled slightly. _You need to allow us to help him, if you wish your child to be safe,_ she said, softly.

She couldn't, she _couldn't..._ Isha felt a wave of savage fury ripple through her. Liars! All Protoss, fucking _liars—_they just wanted her to stay away from him—

"May..." she looked up at Xan'Iir again, cutting her palms once again on her claws. "May your child die... and may you bear no more children!"

The High Templar flinched. Never before had someone dishonored her so! The Terran's words cut through her, wounding her more deeply than ever before. Her son, her _son_…

Rage boiled within her. That wretch! How dare she! Xan'Iir stepped forward, gathering the power within her. Damn the Executor's orders; she should just _kill_ her now…

No. Disobeying orders would only mean further dishonor. She forced the energy back down. No matter how much she wished the Terrans dead, she could do them no harm.

Xan'Iir's amethyst eyes blazed. _And your child shall die by the hands of the beast that conceived it! Stay with him, Terran, if you so choose, and you shall watch him decay! You have power enough—look inside his mind, and see for yourself! There is no love within him; there is only obsession! Desire! Madness! Your dearest var'ha is but a monster! Death is his only purpose!_ She stormed out of the room, ordering two other to go back in and retrieve the unconscious Talidor.

_What do you order, High Templar?_ a warrior asked.

_I do not care! Quarantine them, drop them, put them in stasis, whatever you will! Just keep them away from me!_

_As you will,_ the warrior said with a small bow, then began ordering guards posted in the hallway, effectively cutting the room off from any avenue of escape.

With a groan, Zak stirred. Everything hurt—his back, his legs, his arms, his chest, his head oh his head… He put a hand to it, pulling himself to his knees. "Ah… shit…"

Isha shuddered away from him, biting her lip, Xan'Iir's words echoing in her mind. Now that she had time to reflect, she regretted what she had said to her. She didn't even know where she had found those words, or what had come over her to say them. Why had she done such a thing? She had obviously hurt her, and hurt her badly...

"Are... are you okay, Zak?" she whispered, touching his unbandaged shoulder. "You'll be all right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." He rose shakily to his feet, stumbled, and barely caught himself. Why was he so weak? What the hell was he doing lying unconscious on the floor? What the hell was going on?! "Damn it…" He looked down, wondering if he'd caught his feet on something…

"Oh. Um…" He blushed and grinned sheepishly at Isha. "You haven't seen my pants lying around anywhere, have you?"

"No," she mumbled, turning away. "You made a damn fool of yourself, though."

"What? Why?"

She shook her head. "So did I, too... I insulted Xan'Iir. _Damn_ it!" And she burst into tears, crouching at the base of the wall.

Zak slid down next to her, his aching body groaning in protest. "Isha, don't cry…"

Her thoughts rose into his mind. He watched as he fought and ranted like a madman, watched as Isha and Xan'Iir cursed each other… It didn't make sense. He couldn't have acted like that; he could barely stand, he didn't even remember getting up…

"Shh. It's okay. Tell me what happened."

"I just wanted to stay with you! Just to stay with you... and that guy took me away, and you went nuts... _again!_" She shook her head. "They warned me about you. And Xan'Iir warned me... that you didn't love me."

"Isha, of course I love you," he said softly, kissing her forehead. "You're all I ever think about. You're the only thing that matters."

He would do anything for her. He'd kill for her, he'd die for her… As long as she was with him, everything was okay. Nobody else could have her. She was his purpose. That was love, wasn't it?

"They won't take you away, Isha. I'll kill 'em if they try. In fact…" He kissed her again, then whispered in her ear, "I'll even kill Xan'Iir for you, if you want me to."

_"No!"_

Isha lunged to her feet.

"She was right. She was right! You don't... don't..."

He was obsessed. The memory... it wasn't love, it was _obsession._

She dashed out to the hallway—and was grabbed by a Zealot.

"No—wait... don't. Please, tell Xan'Iir she... she was right. Tell her she was _right._" Isha let out a slow sobbing breath. At least the Zealot was silent, listening. "Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her she was right."

Moments later, Isha was walking away with Xan'Iir. They could hear Zak in the background, screaming and ranting for all he was worth.

"No don't TOUCH me I'm fine I'm FINE there's nothing wrong LET GO OF ME I don't need you help let GO ISHA where's Isha you took her AWAY you scaly bastards bring her BACK you can't have her no no NO don't TOUCH ME GET AWAY NO you're in my head STAY OUTTA MY HEAD you're gonna resoc me don't resoc me I'm fine ISHA…"

_Try to ignore him,_ Xan'Iir said simply. _Hopefully, his state is only temporary…_ She looked down at Isha. The Terran was silent, keeping her eyes on the ground. She was truly a pathetic creature… Xan'Iir pitied her as much as she was disgusted by her…

_Forgive me for before. It was not my place to use such harsh thoughts against you. I was… upset…_

"It's... okay," she mumbled. "It was my fault. I don't even know how I knew how to curse at you..."

Xan'Iir said nothing. But she nodded, once. Isha could tell she still was disgusted with her—but she didn't care. Everything was so wrong, was going so wrongly...

The days passed, then turned into weeks. Isha's belly grew. She remained in the quarters assigned to her, and the Healers continued to visit her every day, to give her nourishment and to examine her when she allowed them to.

She didn't want to know about Zak; for all she knew, he was dead. It tore her heart not to be with him... but she would not be able to stand being with him anyway, to hear his obsession and call it love...

The door slid open and in strode a Protoss. Isha remained silent and staring out the view port, being as this was close to her "feeding" time, as if she were an animal. They would just drop it off and leave.

_Young one?_

Isha blinked, and slowly turned, staring in confusion at the dark Protoss standing before her. "Zeratul...?"

Zeratul lowered his head in a small bow—a greeting. _I have been told of your mate. What has befallen you is most unfortunate._

She looked away. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm over it."

_No, young one... you are not._

Isha stared at the floor, biting her lip. Her hands settled on her growing stomach. It was only a small lump, but it was definitely obvious that she was pregnant.

Zeratul held out a hand. _May I?_

Slowly she nodded. Zeratul sank into a half-crouch and gently touched her stomach, his eyes half closing, resembling small slashes of green. _Ah. A strong child._

"Really?"

_Indeed. A strong quarterblood._

She shook her head. "Please don't call it that..."

_As you wish._

There was a long silence, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. It was just silence. Zeratul remained crouching.

Isha tried to hold back, but she couldn't. It was as if his presence forced it out:

The questions.

"What's going on out there? Why'd you stop here? Is Tassadar okay? I haven't seen him. Do you have children of your own? What happens when the baby is done growing? What..."

Zeratul shook his head, part exhausted, part amused. _The war continues as ever. Tassadar's forces have suffered many a loss, but we have retaliated. As of now, the Zerg are recovering from a major blow, and we are preparing for when they strike again._ The old Protoss sighed, gazing out the view port. _I fear the worst is yet to come… But do not concern yourself with that, young one. As for the child, I am not the one to best answer those questions._ His eyes turned up in a smile. _Perhaps you should seek out one who has experience on the subject, hm?_

She eyed him carefully. "Uh... okay. Who?"

Zeratul smiled broader and stood, motioning her to follow.

"I hope not Xan'Iir..." she muttered as she stood. "Cause she _hates_ me."

Zeratul chuckled. _You are not alone, child._ He led her down the corridor until they came in sight of the Protoss in question.

Xan'Iir's reaction was rather predictable.

_You want me to WHAT?!_ She shot the Dark Templar a powerful glare. _If you think I shall follow orders from _you_, Fallen One, then I—_

_I am not giving you an order, sister, I am merely requesting—_

_Your request is refused. Get out of my sight._

_If you had not brought her aboard your ship, the child would have never been conceived. Do you not bear some responsibility towards it?_

The female Protoss huffed. _Well, I was not the one that encouraged them to forni—oh, Khas _damn_ it!_

_Then you will teach her?_

Xan'Iir shot him another look. _I will, but not because of you._

"Um..." Isha tugged Zeratul's sleeve. "Are you sure...?" she cringed at Xan'Iir's glare.

_I am quite sure._

"But..."

Zeratul turned and gazed down at her. _Xan'Iir will not harm you. She is sworn to keep you alive..._

Isha fidgeted. "Erm... I... suppose..."

He chuckled and gently patted her on the head. _You will be all right. Now, I must go. Before she kills me with a glare._

Isha giggled, watching him leave, then turned to Xan'Iir and cringed at the heavy scowl. "Um..."

_Come in,_ the High Templar snapped, gesturing to the door. Ducking her head, Isha slipped in.

With a touch to a panel, Xan'Iir reactivated the force field that served as a door. _Bloody heretic…_ she muttered, then turned to Isha.

_Terran,_ she said curtly, her voice only somewhat softening. _Are you prepared?_

"Um… for what?"

_Motherhood!_ Xan'Iir barked. _There is no greater challenge, no greater _honor_, than bearing and raising a child! Do you feel you are prepared?_


	7. Chapter 7

Isha jumped terribly. "Uh—no...no, I'm not!"

Xan'Iir glowered. Isha squeaked. "I-I-I... I'm not prepared for _any_thing..."

Her voice grew slightly stronger. "I don't even know what'll happen when it's done growing in me... how could I?"

Xan'Iir shook her head. Really, one would think a Terran would understand these kind of things before choosing to _mate_…

_When it has finished development within you, you will give birth…_

"But… _how?_"

_Think, Terran, how did it get _in?

She paused. "Erm..."

The female Protoss rolled her eyes. _When you laid with your mate, there is an organ called a—_

"STOP!"

Xan'Iir paused in surprise. Isha shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut. "I... I know what it is, okay? I know very well what it is..."

The High Templar's face softened. The poor creature… she knew so little, and yet had been through so much…

Reaching out for Isha's mind, Xan'Iir quietly pushed the memories back. _Do not think of such things, child. When the time comes, your body will know what to do._

A slight tugging on her mind brought Xan'Iir to look up. A healer stood at the door, patiently awaiting her attention.

_Yes?_ she snapped, slightly irritated.

_High Templar,_ the healer began with a bow, _we await permission to perform a memory suppression on the male Terran._

_Go ahead, then,_ she said, waving him away.

The healer did not move. _We need the other Terran's permission as well._

Both Protoss looked over to Isha.

_His condition has only been worsening,_ the healer continued. _We believe we can restore at least partial sanity to him, but he will no longer have any memory of you._

"Wh... what?"

The healer patiently repeated the question and statement. Isha's mouth opened, then shut several times before she could make any sound. "B-but... but he..."

The Protoss were watching her. Isha made a choking sound, trying to keep back her tears.

It didn't work. She curled up near Xan'Iir's feet, tears streaming silently down her face.

Xan'Iir didn't know what to make of the creature at her feet. It was a disgusting little thing; it had insulted her, attacked her, and now saw fit to excrete something or other all over her robes…

But it—_she_—needed help. She had been hurt in every way possible, and she had no one to comfort her.

With a sigh, the High Templar crouched down and very reluctantly put a hand on Isha's shoulder. _Calm down, little one,_ she said. _All is not lost. Listen, and the healer shall explain the situation to you._ She looked over to the other Protoss, her purple eyes carrying a hint of threat. _Won't you?_

The healer flinched slightly, then nodded. _The Terran's mind cannot be helped through normal means. We have found that, whenever he feels a particularly strong emotion, it serves to break down certain artificial blocks within his brain. The breakdown of these blocks results in uncontrollable, violent, and obsessive behavior. It is apparent that this is a result of some sort of synthetic alteration. We believe that we can restore these blocks through partial memory suppression, as any permanent alterations on our part may only worsen his condition. We can selectively go through and lock down certain memories of emotional attachment, thereby restoring most of his functions. However, he will not comply with anything unless you agree to it. As of now, you are the only thing that holds any control whatsoever over him._

She listened silently, taking deep, shuddering breaths. "But it'll... it'll help him."

_Yes, Terran._

"Will they break down again?"

_No._

More silence. Isha rubbed her face, then quietly nodded. "If it helps him... then yes."

_Then follow._ The healer turned with a swish of his robes and slipped out the door. Isha bit her lip, and followed.

It only took a minute to reach the cell Zak was held in, and Isha closed her eyes at the door, trembling.

Perhaps she could win his love again. Perhaps they could actually live together... but even if he never loved her again, she had made up her mind. If it would help him, she'd do it.

She stepped inside. "Zak?"

Zak was a mess.

He had barely eaten for weeks, and hadn't done much in they way of personal hygiene, either. His sunken body was riddled with wounds, half of them self-inflicted. He was huddled in a corner—they had given up trying to keep him tied down—farthest away from the door. His mind was in even worse condition than his body, and he slipped in and out of consciousness, partially due to exhaustion, and partially because of the various tranquilizers and sedatives that had been pumped into his veins.

He raised his head. Someone called his name. The voice wasn't in his mind like the others he'd been hearing. No, it was real, possibly the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

Something so beautiful could only mean one thing.

"Isha," he rasped, his face twisting into what once upon a time could have been a smile. "You came back. I knew you would." He stood up, shaking, his breathing hard and rough. She came back. She was beautiful. She'd come back for him. He dragged himself across the small cell, leaning against the wall for support. He held out a hand. It was filthy, scarred, and caked over with dried blood, not all of it human.

"I knew you'd come back, Isha. You had to. That's love, isn't it? C'mon, Isha. We can be together now. See, everything's okay."

"Zak," she whispered, hesitating tremblingly by the door. "Oh, Zak..."

"Come here, Isha," he breathed, "let me touch you..."

She stepped forward, and he lunged, wrapping her in a hug and burying his face in her shoulder. "We're here, we're together, you're gonna have my baby..." he stroked her growing stomach, a pained grin over his face. "My baby."

"Zak," Isha muttered again. "Zak, listen."

"Anything, Isha."

"They have to do something to you, Zak. They have to suppress your memories. But it'll make you well again, Zak, it'll make you okay. Please? Please let them?"

"That doesn't make any sense, Isha," he said with a quiet chuckle as he kissed her cheek and softly nibbled her ear. "I'm fine. Nothing's wrong with me…"

"Zak, please…"

He drew away, looking into her crystalline eyes. He couldn't say no to her.

"If you say so," he said, putting his hand under her chin. He kissed her one last time, letting his hand slide over her cheek as he followed the Protoss away. He kept his eyes on her, smiling over his shoulder. It didn't make sense—suppress his memories? What did that mean? It wasn't important. Isha wanted it; that was what mattered.

He was surrounded by Protoss, being washed and bandaged, but he did not fight against them. Isha said they were going to help him. He didn't think he needed help, but if Isha said so…

He was lying down. Isha was standing next to him, tears rolling down her face.

"Don't cry, Isha," he crooned as he held her hand, lightly pressing his lips against it. "I love you."

A creeping tiredness enveloped him, and, smiling, he fell asleep.

Isha turned away, gently prying Zak's hand away from hers. The Protoss healers gestured for her to leave and she obeyed, stepping out and following the hall back to Xan'Iir's quarters.

"Tell me," she whispered, standing there under the High Templar's sharp purple gaze. "Is it worth it? In the end? Is my baby being born worth it?"

Xan'Iir cocked her head for a moment, then closed her eyes. _It is life,_ she said, _and new life in itself is worth more than anything. The child will be born, and it will grow into an individual, a complete and new identity. Life is a miracle. Life and death are all entwined. To take part in the great cycle is worth enough._

She nodded. "Then teach me, please," she said. "I know you hate me. But please..." she tried not to cry. "I don't know what to do. When it's born, I won't know what to do!"

Xan'Iir rolled her eyes. _You should have considered that before you decided to mate, then…_

"I was barren!" Isha cried. "I wasn't supposed to… to…" She hiccupped and sniffed. Painful emotions emanated from her.

The High Templar shook her head. _It matters not. The deed has been done. Now, pay attention, Terran. I am not one to repeat myself._

The lessons began. Xan'Iir was rather impatient, but Isha made up for it—she was a fast learner. Over time, Xan'Iir made less demands and snide remarks. Instead, her language became soft, mystic, and at times poetic. When a biological difference arose, Xan'Iir "borrowed" Talidor to explain Terran life processes. Of course, Xan'Iir remained stubborn and irritable, but she readily shared her knowledge.

On the third day, she taught Isha the birth-song.

_Listen carefully,_ Xan'Iir said with her usual curtness. _What I am about to show you is an ancient tradition, one that all mothers take part in upon their child's birth. Feel honored that I saw fit to teach you._

And then she sang.

It was not "singing" as a human would define it. It was, however, beautiful—a tapestry of thoughts, images, and emotions that seemed to come from Xan'Iir's very soul. At first, one would be overwhelmed, but after listening carefully the meaning became clear.

_Life that is within me_  
_Come forth and breathe_  
_Of my own flesh and lover's blood_  
_Great miracle, blessing of the gods_  
_Come forth and see_  
_Little one, my beloved_  
_We wait for you_  
_Come forth and live_

No words could describe it. Isha memorized it on the spot, her eyes closed, with a smile on her face.

_Well? Sing it back to me._

She did, perfectly.

_No._

"No?" Isha replied, calmly. She was quite used to the way Xan'Iir expressed what she thought.

_Stop using your pitiful Terran voice. Use your _soul.

"Yes'm." She hesitated, then added, "Um, H-High Templar? May... um... may I see Zak?"

_Sing first. Properly._

Isha closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She sang again, still using her obnoxious human voice, but this time there was a power behind it. Xan'Iir could _feel_ it. The blood of the First Born was strong within her, indeed.

_Definitely an improvement,_ she said with a nod, then mentally contacted Talidor.

_Head Healer, how is the male Terran recovering?_

_Very well, High Templar. Rehabilitation is nearly complete._

_Then tell him he has a visitor._

_What? Now? But, High Templar, what if he—_

_I will tell her the rules,_ Xan'Iir stated, then turned to Isha.

_If you wish to see him, there are certain precautions you must take. You must not touch him or do anything that might cause an emotional reaction. Block out your mind; your thoughts and memories may trigger a breakdown. And finally, do not use his name. He sees himself as "number twenty-seven," now, and any reminder of his forgotten past with you could very well lead to disaster. He is still in a very fragile state. Understand?_

Her gut twisted. It hurt horribly to think that he didn't remember anything at all about her...

"I can't tell him he's going to be a father?"

_Absolutely not._

Isha scowled, a hand on her stomach. "All right... but _when_ can I tell him?"

_When he is fully healed. Now stop acting like an obnoxious child and more like an adult! Your young one needs a mother, not a girl!_

She squeaked. "Yes'm!"

_Now, go. And come back after._

"Yes'm," she said again, and scurried out.

The route was taken quickly, and despite being scowled at by Talidor—she didn't take him seriously anyway; he had children of his own and he was a big softie, in her opinion—he let her in as soon as she came.

Hesitantly she stepped through the door. Zak looked much better; his stature was strong once more and he gazed at her with cold eyes in an impassive face. Remembering what Xan'Iir had said, she emptied her mind of all she remembered...

"Z—er, Twenty-seven?"

He looked the strange woman over. She wasn't normal at all. She looked like she was half Protoss or something... He couldn't read her mind. Definitely not normal. Whatever; it didn't look like she'd come to kill him or anything…

"Yeah, that's me," he said, turning back to the viewport and munching on a piece of fruit. He didn't really feel like talking to anyone, now. He was too busy thinking. The Confederacy was dead and gone, so he really didn't have a purpose, anymore. The last few months were foggy, and it was hard to remember details. He just assumed he'd been abducted by aliens—which was weird, but they gave him food and didn't bother him—and spent his time filling in the blanks.

The fruit was sickeningly sweet. He didn't like it much, but it was better than that freeze-dried shit he was used to eating. He put his free hand in his pocket, letting his mind wander back into the fog…

The woman was still there.

He wiped the juice off his chin and turned back around. "Okay, what do you want?"

Isha fidgeted. "Um, my name's Isha..."

"Yeah? And?"

"I was... just wondering how you were doing, that's all... twenty-seven."

Damn it, she _hated_ that designation!

He snorted. "Wondering how I was doing, huh? Cute." He walked over, taking another bite of the fruit in his hand. He stopped when he was inches away from her face. "Seriously, what do you want? How do you know me?"

"I... just..." she took a step away, staring up into his cold, flat eyes. "That's all, I swear," she whispered, intentionally ignoring the second question. "Just wanted to know if you were all right."

He raised an eyebrow, not buying what she was saying. Nobody gave a shit about him. Ever. And now this total stranger shows up wondering how he's doing… Yeah, right. Probably some stupid slut looking for easy action. Be that the case, she'd come to the wrong guy.

But… even though he couldn't read her mind, she looked like she was telling the truth.

"That's all?" he finally said. "If it is, I'm fine. Damn fantastic." He resumed his post by the view port.

She wanted to touch him, be close to him...

Isha bit her lip. "They're treating you all right? You're not... bored, or anything? Or the food...?" Slightly desperate now, she cried, "Tell me something, please!"

"What the hell is your _problem?!_" The man whirled, throwing what was left of the fruit against the floor. "Why do you care so much? I don't even _know_ you! Yeah, I feel like a lab rat, there's nothing to do, and the food could be a lot better, but you know what? I don't care! Nobody's coming after me or telling me what to do! I'm being left _alone_ for once, and then you come in here and you… you…"

He stopped. He was getting angry. "Ah, shit," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Okay, stay calm. Don't feel. Shut it out."

"Are you…?"

"Leave me alone," he said, not looking at her. He needed to calm down. He was a Ghost; Ghosts don't feel. No emotions. Okay…

_Time to go, young one._

Isha flinched, staring at the Ghost. "Yeah... okay..."

"What?"

"Nothing," she muttered. "I'll... you'll have to stay in here for a while, but as soon as your mem—as soon as they deem fit you'll be all right to come out, okay? I can't do anything about the food, but..." she shrugged miserably, staring at the floor. "Be patient, okay?"

"I'm a Ghost."

"I noticed."

He turned slowly, staring her straight in the face, and stepped forward until he was once again inches from her. She took a step back, and he took another step forward, glowering down at her with that impassive face.

Isha turned to leave. He reached out and yanked her around, glaring at her. "Who are you?"

"I told you," she whispered, trying to work his fingers from her arm, "my name is Isha."

Then the Protoss came, firmly separating them. Isha turned her back and walked away. "I'll come back again, okay?" she called over her shoulder to the bewildered Zak.

Who the hell _was_ that kid?

He didn't get it. She was not only half-Protoss or something—which weirded him out—but also obviously _pregnant_… and he couldn't read her. Was she a psych? She had to be—how else could she block him and know so much about him?

He began to pace. The way she acted, too, was strange. She knew more than she let on—that was easy enough to tell—and the way she moved and drew back, fidgeting, looking away… she must have been abused somehow. Poor kid probably went though a hell that matched up with his own past…

But why did she _care?_

That was the biggest question of all. No one had ever given a shit about him. He was a weapon. An object. In fact, according to the records, he didn't exist. So why had this lady shown up all weepy-eyed asking him how he was doing? Probably a psychological need; he was the closest thing to another human being she could find, and wanted someone to sympathize with. He wished her good luck to that—he wasn't much one to be touchy-feely.

Then again, she cared. Nobody had ever cared about him before. It was a bizarre concept, but still… kind of nice.

Finally, he sat down on the edge of the cot that had been provided for him. _Isha, huh?_ he thought to himself. _Nice name._ He closed his eyes and leaned back, relaxing for the first time in what must have been years.

The Confederacy was dead. He was being given food and place to stay for free. And somebody gave a shit about him. Life, for the first time, was good.

"Wish I could at least _touch_ him," she groused, scowling up at Xan'Iir. "Why couldn't I touch him?"

_You know very well why. Stop whining._

"Dammit, why are you so frickin _unfriendly?_" Isha glared forcefully up at the High Templar. "_Zeratul's_ more friendly then you! And that's saying a lot!" Her voice rose into a shriek. "What the hell is your _problem?!_"

_The Executor ordered me to keep an eye on you,_ Xan'Iir said with an equally powerful glare, _not befriend you. Now, sit down, stop that obnoxious screeching, and we shall continue with our lesson—_ She stopped suddenly, jerking her head up and going rigid.

_Xan'Iir! An entire brood is heading our way! We need air support!_ Tassadar's voice echoed within her head, his urgency thundering against her skull.

_Immediately, Executor!_ Xan'Iir answered, then whirled around and galloped down the _Gantrithor's_ long corridors, absently shouting at Isha to go somewhere safe and stay out of trouble. She wasted no time, barking orders before she had fully entered the command deck.

_All ships, activate shields and prepare for descent immediately!_ Her voice rang out loud and clear amongst the fleet. _Our ground forces need reinforcement now!_

Twenty-seven jerked upright, cold and alive with a deep, sickening pulse in his mind. He knew what it was.

Zerg. And they were heading this way.

_KILL THE PROTOSS. DECIMATE THEM. LEAVE NONE ALIVE._

Just when he'd thought life was good for a change…

_This is High Templar Forinoth, temporary commander of the _Dalthris._ We are beginning descent._

_Carrier _Ginjaelu,_ beginning descent._

Ruz'Shaka, _prepared and descending._

One by one, the battleships and their supplementary flights entered Char's atmosphere, shields at full power and weapons ready. Xan'Iir prowled in a circle around the command chair—it was not truly hers, so she refused to sit in it—listening to their voices and carefully examining the displays before her.

_Executor, the fleet is on its way. Approximated time to arrival is fourteen standard minutes. Can you hold out that long?_

_I believe we can, High Templar, but make haste. The Zerg will soon be upon us._

_As you order, Executor. En Taro Adun._

Almost there. She could see both their own forces and the approaching Zerg brood. They should be able to pull them out in time. Yes, it was a matter of getting there fast enough…

A single transmission came in from one of the flanking Scout flights. _High Templar, there are Zerg approaching from the south! Shall we move to—_

Cut off. Xan'Iir hailed them, but no response. A sick feeling grabbed hold of her insides. It could not have been…

She looked up to the displays. A massive cloud of flying monstrosities, thick enough to block out the planet's hazy sun, was heading their way.

They had no time to run.

Bony carapaces and splashes of acid slammed into the first ships' shields, tearing the energy barrier to shreds in a matter of seconds. The Protoss launched a counterattack without hesitation, but it did little to slow the Zerg down.

She called out to Tassadar. _Executor, we are under attack by a second brood! We are pushing against them with all we have, and are still trying to reach you! Are you holding out?_

_We are. So far, our losses have been minimal, but I do not know…_

The rest of Tassadar's words were drowned out by the chaos around her.

_Scout patrol one, engaging Zerg._

_High Templar! We have been hit! Shields are at ninety per cent!_

_This is the _Dalthris_. We are suffering considerable damage._

_Scout patrol five, regrouping to the west._

_We have been hit again! Shields are at eighty-two per cent!_

Dalthris, _with damage report. Shields and fighter bays are depleted. Engines are damaged beyond repair._

Xan'Iir briskly shook her head, bringing herself back into her role. _Forinoth, do not save the _Dalthris._ Warp anyone aboard it over to the _Gantrithor._ We will need you and your men soon enough._

_But, Xan'Iir, it is your ship…_

_I am aware of that! Warp survivors over now!_

_Of course, High Templar, I—_ He never finished his sentence. A slew of flying, kamikaze Zerg drove themselves into the _Dalthris's_ hull, and the mighty vessel gave way.

Xan'Iir felt a twinge of pain for their deaths, but now was not the time for mourning. She snapped back to attention, shouting orders over the roar, directing her warriors as best she could. _Patrol two! Status report! Patrols three and four, defensive maneuvers around the _Ginjaelu_ and _Ruz'Shaka!_ All other fighters, shoot down the smaller Zerg—the Scourge—first, before they get close enough to strike! When they are cleared, go for the Overlords!_

Perhaps they could break through, reach Tassadar…

_High Templar, Executor, there are more Zerg to the southeast! Their numbers are astronomical! They do not seem to be heading our way, but…_

_What?!_ two voices cried as Xan'Iir and a distant, unseen Tassadar reeled.

_Zerg to the southeast,_ repeated the technician. _They have enough forces to crush us, but they are not engaging._

_Then it is true,_ a deep, ancient voice sounded. Zeratul.

_What is true? Tell us now, Dark One!_

_The Zerg are leaving. They are preparing to depart for Aiur._

Xan'Iir reacted as if she'd been struck in the face. _You… this is not…_

Tassadar's voice was strangely calm. _Xan'Iir. Follow them out._

_Sir?_

_Go back to Aiur. Warn our people._

_But, sir—_

_We are not yet defeated here. I still have a few tricks to play on the so-called "Queen of Blades." The safety of the homeworld is far more important. Now, go!_

She could not argue with a direct order. She could not leave Aiur unaware.

_Shields at forty-one percent!_

_Patrol six, preparing to attack again._

Xan'Iir closed her eyes and bowed her head, bracing herself for what was soon to come. Then, solemnly, she gave the order to retreat.

Isha bolted along the corridors, slipping past rushing Zealots and scientists and the like, who ignored her utterly, and staggering as the ship was hit again and again.

"Zak!" Her voice rose into a cry as she whipped open the door. "Are you okay? Zak!"

In the commotion, she had completely forgotten to call him twenty-seven.

Zerg. Everywhere. He had to run. Had to get _out,_ had to…

The strange woman was back again. She had run into the room before he could react, and now clung desperately to him, burying her face into his chest and saying a name over and over.

_His_ name.

Impossible. He didn't have a name… did he?

Zerg. Zerg! Run!

He couldn't run. He couldn't move. He could only stare down in shock at the girl crying into his shirt.

"You… you know… no, you can't…"

Her mind was open and unguarded; her thoughts moved freely into his perception.

What he saw couldn't have been real.

"No. No, get _off!_" He pushed her away, his eyes wide in panicked confusion. "You're not real. This isn't real. _I'm_ not real!"

Somebody knew him. She knew him! He was a Ghost—nobody could know Ghosts! They didn't exist! He didn't exist!

But… the blank spaces…

He slid back into the corner farthest away from her, the Zerg throb still beating against his mind. "Who are you? And don't lie. Are you from the Program?"

Her eyes opened wide with a horror that matched his own. Oh, no. Oh no no no no... she had forgotten...

She stepped back, belatedly closing her mind, and shaking her head slowly. "Oh Z—no. Twenty-seven. I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to..."

Zak rose to his feet, eyes narrowed at her. "_Who are you?_"

"My name is—"

"—Isha. Yes I know your fucking name! _Are you from the Program?_"

"No, I'm not! I'm your..."

Lover? Wife?

"I'm your friend. Th-that's all. Your friend."

"Let's get something straight, kid," he said as he stepped towards her, using one hand to pin her against the wall and the other to wrap just a little too tight for comfort around her throat. "I don't have friends. Anybody not with the Program who knows I exist isn't supposed to live. You've got twenty seconds to come up with a good reason as to why I shouldn't kill you." His grip tightened just a little more. "Starting now."

He hoped she couldn't think of anything to say. After seeing what was in her head, he was afraid of what reasons she might come up with. He was afraid he'd broken the rules again.

He was afraid he'd been resocialized again.

Isha choked, writhing against him. "No, Zak, please—"

"Fifteen seconds."

She couldn't, she couldn't! He might fall back again, he was too fragile...

"Ten seconds, kid."

And the Protoss wouldn't come; they were far too busy to pay attention to what was going on.

"Five." His hand tightened, and spots exploded in front of her eyes.

She didn't know how she managed to speak, as his hand blocked almost all air. But she did.

"I'm your _lover!_"

He pulled his hands away like they were burning. "That's a lie."

Isha gasped and sobbed. "No it's not."

"You don't _get_ it! I'm not… I'm… aw, hell…" He turned away, rubbing his forehead. She wasn't lying. It was the truth. He'd broken the rules.

The ship shook again, and he caught himself against the wall. He let his legs give out, anyway, sliding down into a crouch with his head in his hands.

He'd gotten resoc. He'd gone and fucked up someone else's life and then gotten resoc for it.

"Kid, that can't be right. I don't love. I don't feel. You've got the wrong guy. Please tell me you've got the wrong guy."

She laughed, a horrible bitter sound that tore her throat. "No. And you don't know the _half_ of it."

Walking over, she sat by him. "M'sorry. I—I wasn't supposed to tell you. You might have... you might have relapsed again."

"Relapsed?"

"Yeah..."

He turned, glaring at her again with his cold gray eyes. "Tell me everything."

"I can't."

"Now."

She looked away. "Don't... please, don't ask me again..."

He sighed, leaning back his head until it made a soft clunk against the wall. "Fine. I get what you mean, kid. I got ugly. I'm sorry you had to see that." He glanced over at her, a cynical grin on his face as he eyed her swollen belly. "I'm guessing that's my fault, too…"

She flinched and looked away.

Zak rolled his eyes. "Okay, sorry for almost killing you, too. I promise I won't try to kill you again. There, you happy now?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Quit callin' me kid. I almost had you trained of th—"

The door swished open. Talidor glowered down at them, arms folded, absolutely furious.

"Um... hi..."

_And_ what, he snapped, _do you think you're doing?_

Isha squirmed, red in the face. "D-During the attack I was, I was er, worried for him, so I came to see if he was all r—"

_You know the rules! Do you not want to see him again? I can very well make that decision, and keep you locked up for the remainder of your pregnancy—_

"No," she whispered.

_"No Master please don't I won't be bad I promise don't do it please no no no—"_

"Okay, whoa, wait a minute, what the hell is going on?" Zak stood up, not bothering to try to look threatening. He knew the alien, anyway… kind of. The guy usually came in to check on him every once in a while.

_You are still at risk of backsliding. We cannot allow you to redevelop any sort of relationship unless we are certain you are stabilized._

"Stabilized?"

_Yes. Your mind is still to fragile for you to begin recalling your memories…_

Zak clenched his fists. "This sounds an awful lot like resoc. So you Protoss wanna start a Ghost Program, too?"

_I assure you, it is nothing like—_

The ship gave another powerful lurch. Talidor stumbled back, but Zak held his ground.

"I'm tired of being fucked with."

_We saved your life, Terran—_

"Leave me alone. And stop messing with the kid while you're at it."

_If you would listen—_

He feigned a lunge. "Beat it!"

Talidor flinched, recomposed himself, huffed, and turned away.

_I am closely monitoring both of you. Break the rules again, and I am putting both of you in stasis._

"Yeah, have fun with that," Zak muttered. He looked over at Isha, scratching his head.

"Erm, it might be a good idea if you left… I don't know exactly what he was talking about, but he was pretty pissed at you…"

"Yeah, I know," she muttered. "Talidor. He's a nice guy, usually... has his own kids."

He nodded absently, and turned towards the window. "So... I have a kid, now. How long until...?"

"Five months."

He blinked. "Only five...? Damn."

Isha sighed, rubbing her arms. "Well, let's start over. Literally. I don't have much of a life... When I was four my father killed my mother and then committed suicide. The reason... a Dark Templar was using us for an experiment using a drug that I don't need to explain. I spent up to when I was 13 in school, dodging him and getting addicted to the drug. Then I killed my principal, the Dark Templar—my Master—took me in, and I spent until I was twenty being tortured and raped."

She turned to look at him. "How about you?"

"Classified," he said reflexively. "Wait… you were _raped?_"

"Um, yeah."

"By an _alien?!_"

The girl bit her lip and nodded. Zak shook his head.

"Either you are one damn good liar, or one of us is crazy…"

"You believe me?"

"After being abducted by aliens, it gets easy to believe some really crazy shit." He took a deep breath. "Okay, here's my story. When I was just a kid, some men in black suits came and took me away from my home. From that day on, I was taught to be a weapon, and they used me on anybody who stepped out of line. Until one day I got sick of it and ran away. Through some bizarre chain of events that I'm guessing involved you, I wound up here…" He glanced out the window again. The Zerg were now far enough away that he couldn't feel them. The planet beneath them looked significantly smaller. "Looks like the attack's over."

"Really?"

He was about to turn around and answer, but the ship gave a mighty lurch more powerful than ever before. A ringing filled Zak's ears as he was thrown off his feet, and he only just managed to regain his balance before it lurched again. Isha toppled forward, and through some miracle he caught her.

"What the fu—"

The ringing turned into a roar, and a blinding light washed over them that seemed to suck all the heat from every cell in their bodies. Zak was wondering whether or not they had died when the light and sound faded, leaving them both in a daze.

"… was _that_?!"

"Um," she said, "I think that was warp travel. Xan'Iir said something about it..."

"Xan'Iir?"

"High Templar. Trust me, you don't want to know her." Isha sighed and lay her head down on his arm, snuggling automatically against him. He stiffened.

The door flew open again and—in strode Xan'Iir.

_That,_ she said, _is enough._

Zak stepped back, pushing Isha away. She scared him. She knew so much about him, cared about him, loved him, _was pregnant with his baby…_ and he had no idea who she was. She was a stranger—a total and complete stranger. She was part of a life he'd found and just as quickly forgotten.

"Time to go, kid," he said flatly, then looked up at the purple-eyed alien. "You Xan'Iir?"

_Yes, Terran, I am,_ she snapped. _You would do well to address me by my rank._ She shot a glare at Isha. _And as for you, what in Adun's name do you think you are doing? Have you not learned your lesson from before?_

Zak didn't need to be a psychic to know Xan'Iir was pissed. But there was something else… Loss. Pain. Grieving. Fear.

"Look, I'm sorry. I was worried..."

Xan'Iir glared furiously, and Isha bowed her head fearfully. _Come. Now._

Meekly she followed her out. "What's _your_ problem?" she muttered, scowling.

Xan'Iir stopped for a moment, closing her eyes and putting a hand on her forehead. The day's events were too much for her to bear. Half the fleet gone. Tassadar most likely dead. Zerg coming for Aiur…

She shoved her musings away. Now was not the time to grieve. In seconds, she resumed her straight posture and powerful stride. _We have reached Aiur. You and the other Terran are to remain in Talidor's care. However, it seems that the two of you cannot be kept in a room together without the supervision of half an army. Therefore, you shall be kept separate from each other. Finally, stay out of the way. We have enough matters to attend to without you causing trouble._

Isha went rigid, then stopped dead and folded her arms. "You," she said, her crystalline eyes burning, "will _not_ keep us apart."

_Do not cross me, Terran!_ Xan'Iir hissed, whirling around. _I have far more important things to do than put up with the likes of you! How dare you think I would put your personal comfort above the needs of my people! This is a _war,_ little Terran, not the time for you to be fooling around with that psychologically scrambled mate of yours!_

_High Templar,_ a voice said to her privately, _we are being hailed._

With one last glare of contempt, Xan'Iir stormed away.

Isha's hands clenched. She didn't care that Xan'Iir was in pain. She didn't care that there was a war going on. So far, she was detached from it all.

So she closed her eyes, concentrated, and sent her a thought: _It pains you to be away from _your_ family, doesn't it?_

So saying, she turned and stalked back to her quarters, furious tears escaping her eyes.

Talidor was waiting to give her a checkup, and silently she allowed him.

Maybe she should have killed the baby. She could, still...

_Do not think of such things, young one,_ Talidor said absently as his various instruments ran their checks.

Isha curled up into a ball. "Why is Xan'Iir such a bitch?"

Talidor raised a craggy brow, then shook with laughter. _Ha! That, child, is a question we all ask!_ He calmed himself, then added, _Perhaps you should try to see things from her point of view. She would never admit it, but she pities you. However, she tends to get wrapped up in her own opinions. Let her be, and she might just show you a little respect. I cannot guarantee it, though…_

"Oh, no! Oh, _fuck,_ no! You put that thing _down!_"

Talidor raised his head, gazing in the direction of the shouts. _Ah, it seems your mate is receiving an examination as well._ He glanced down at Isha. _Next time you choose to see him, try to be a bit more careful. He was on the verge of relapsing. You are very lucky he did not go over the edge._

Isha looked away and sniffed.

Talidor decided it was time to change the subject. _I have a scan of your child on display, if you would like to see it._

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, yes please!"

Talidor chuckled again, and turned away for a moment. _Here..._ he turned back around, and Isha saw it.

At first, she didn't know what she was looking at on the large screen. Then it moved, and she could make out tiny arms, legs, hands, feet...

"Oh," she breathed, reaching out to touch the screen. "It's a... it's a baby."

His red eyes slitted, and she flushed as he held in another burst of laughter. "No, I mean, I know it's a baby, but—it's _my_ baby."

_It is indeed. A male, if you can look closely, you'll see the testes... there._

She did see it. "It's beautiful!" Her eyes grew moist again. "It's my boy. It's my baby boy..."

_It is good you feel so attached to it—pardon, him. As his mother, you carry a great deal of responsibility._

Isha beamed. She did indeed feel attached to him... it was _her_ baby, after all, and she felt all the other qualms from before melt away.

In her joy, she reached out with her mind. Zak she couldn't touch—he wasn't supposed to, anyway—but she spoke to Xan'Iir.

_I have a baby boy! I have a son!_

Then she stopped, flushed, and added, _Er... sorry._

_Now is not the time,_ came a sharp and hissed reply as Xan'Iir shut her mind against Isha.

Talidor closed his eyes. _She is meeting with the Praetor,_ he said. _There is a Judicator as well… Tassadar's former advisor, I believe. Alas, the situation grows graver by the hour…_ His crimson eyes opened as he withdrew from the conversation. _Do you know what has transpired over the past few days, young one?_

"Okay, back off! Enough with the probe thing! And gimmie my shirt! Jeez!" Zak half-ran, half-tripped into the room—backwards—as he waved his shirt threateningly at the slew of healers after him. "You guys did your thing, so back off!"

The healers, seeming almost disappointed, shuffled away. Zak scoffed as they left. Pulling his shirt back over his head and muttering curses, he caught a surprised Isha's eye. "Oh. Hey, kid."

_Be careful,_ Talidor said privately to Isha. _Do not touch him or incite strong emotion. Speak with caution._

"Hi," she said carefully. "Careful... those healers are vicious." She gestured to a surprised Talidor. "Especially this guy." She giggled.

"Oh yeah," Zak said with a roll of his eyes, "he's an animal."

_Excuse me!_ Talidor retorted with mock offense, folding his arms across his chest.

Zak's mouth tugged into a lopsided smirk as he waved over his shoulder. "I'll head back, now. Just keep your minions outta my hair. See you 'round, kid."

The red-eyed healer blinked, closed his eyes for a moment, then took a step forward. _Actually, the two of you are to come with me._

Zak poked his head back into the room. "Yeah? For what?"

_We are to take a shuttle down to the surface. Xan'Iir desires you to be… out of the way._

"Figures."

_This way, please._

The trio made their way down to the shuttle hangar, joined at one point by the customary pair of guards. Talidor made a point of keeping himself positioned between Zak and Isha, and the shuttle ride was rather uneventful—albeit somewhat tense. In minutes, the whir of the engines died down as the craft landed.

_We have arrived,_ Talidor announced, a hint of pride in his thoughts. _Welcome to Aiur._

The shuttle door opened, and a wave of soft, evening sunlight swept into the small ship. The passengers stepped out into the warm, moist air.

Everything was gold.

Great, gleaming spires thrust into the heavens all around them. They stood on a stone landing platform, surrounded on all sides by elegant, sweeping architecture and rich, intricate metal and stonework. Various, sweetly fragrant flora grew amongst the buildings, and deep, green vines wound themselves around the stone and metal. Fountains and waterfalls sprayed cool mist into the air, and bluish crystals hung suspended in midair, giving off a faint light against the sunset. The very air around them was alive with a psychic hum.

"Wow," Zak mused aloud. "You guys sure know how to impress."

"It's gorgeous," Isha said quietly to Talidor. "I can see why you feel that love towards it."

Talidor nodded, smiling, his eyes tracing the buildings and various vessels that hummed in the air. _It is not_ just _the beauty that we have fallen in love with... this is our home, our planet, our... there are not enough words to describe it._

But come, he added, with a jerk of his head. _I will show you where you will stay, and who will attend you... myself of course, but there are others..._

"Wonderful," she heard Zak mutter. Isha ignored him and instead smiled at the red-eyed healer. "I'm glad you're staying," she said.

Talidor blinked, looking down at her. _Ah... thank you, young one. I am glad I have the opportunity to study you more._

Isha rolled her eyes as they began to walk. "Great."

_Father!_

Talidor stopped dead and whirled.

There, bolting towards them, were three little children. Isha guessed that the eldest was around the Protoss equivalent of twelve. Talidor stooped, holding out his arms, and all three crashed into him.

_FatherFatherFather!_

_Welcome home, Talidor,_ breathed a soft, gentle voice, and they looked up to see a flowing, graceful Protoss lady gliding towards them.

Talidor stood. _Sa'avi._

The two Protoss bowed lightly, then stepped towards each other, brushing their fingers across the other's forehead.

_I have missed you,_ the lady sighed.

_As I have missed you,_ Talidor whispered back. _It is good to see you and the children._

_I was worried—every message you sent home was so grave… And the last one, is it true?_ Sa'avi's delicate brow furrowed as she eyed her mate with growing concern.

Talidor closed his eyes and nodded grimly. _Yes, but such things are to be discussed later. For now—_

_Oh! What is that?!_ The youngest of the children detached herself from her father's leg, gesturing excitedly at Zak.

_It's a Terran, silly,_ the middle child, also a girl, answered. _Remember? Father told you about them._

_Really?_ The eldest took a step towards the man, his head cocked to one side. Still a youngling, he came up to Zak's nose. _I thought they would be taller…_

Zak inched backwards and snorted. "Yeah? Take a look at your own height, shorty."

The youngest jumped. _It made noises! Did you hear it? Brother, make it do it again!_

_That is how they talk, Gi'eshi,_ her sister stated with a distinct know-it-all tone.

Gi'eshi made a face at her sister and crossed her arms. _Well, what did it say?_

_Brother, tell Gi'eshi what the Terran said._

The eldest rolled his eyes. _I don't know…_

The littlest giggled. _Hehe! I want to touch it!_

_Children, do mind yourselves, the Terran is…_ Talidor stopped in mid-scolding, seeing he was too late. _Oh, dear…_

All three children had pounced upon the unfortunate Zak, poking, prodding, and examining him in every possible way.

_What's this fuzzy stuff on its head?_

_It smells funny…_

_Its clothes are so strange…_

_Look! Its hide is squishy! And it has holes in its head! Is it hurt?_

_That's its mouth, Gi'eshi…_

Zak squirmed and wriggled, trying desperately and failing miserably to shake them off. "Ah! Get off! Ow! Hey, cut it out! Help!"

_It made more noises! They sound so funny!_ Gi'eshi chuckled in delighted curiosity. _Father, can we keep it?_

Talidor raised an eyebrow. _I do not think…_

_Please, Father? It's so cute! Is it a girl?_

Zak jerked his head up. "WHAT?!"

_Erm, no…_

_Well, I think it should be! I'll call her… Leerana._

Zak bolted to his feet and backed away. "Okay, enough! Jeez!" He dusted himself off, muttering under his breath.

Gi'eshi bounded over. _Leerana, come on! Let's play!_

Zak gave Talidor and Isha a pleading look. He mouthed "help" as Gi'eshi tugged on his arm.

Isha was falling over herself laughing. "Oh! You and—oh!"

_Ooooh! Another one!_ the eldest and the second eldest crowded around her this time, reaching up to touch her long hair. _It has long fur!_

_And normal eyes! Look!_

_And it actually has nails!_

The biggest blinked and glanced at Talidor. _Is it really Terran?_

_Of course _she_ is,_ Talidor said. _Children, please. Come away from them, they don't like to be—_

Isha reached down and plucked Gi'eshi from the ground away from Zak, settling her on her hip. "Gi'eshi, right?"

_Yes,_ Talidor stated. _But she does not understand..._

"Then translate for me. Gi'eshi, that Terran's name is Zak. He's male, and he doesn't like being touched, okay?"

_Okay,_ the little one whispered.

"You can touch me all you want, okay?"

_Okay._

Satisfied, Isha glanced at Talidor. "Where now?"

"_You and—oh!"_

Zak stared at the ground. He'd heard her say that before… The way she laughed was so… familiar.

_"You can touch me all you want, okay?"_

Why did that make him uncomfortable when she said that?

Talidor straightened himself. _I will take you to my place of work. It is spacious and comfortable enough, and the equipment there is far more sufficient than the facilities aboard the _Gantrithor…

Gi'eshi tugged on her father's robes. _Father, you mean they're going away?_

Talidor smiled and patted her head. _They will not be far. I need to keep an eye on them._

_But, Father! Why can't they stay with us? I like them! Zak's funny, and Isha is pretty and nice and…_ The child's large eyes seemed to double in size as she pouted. _Please?_

_No, little one, I need the tools there. But they can visit you, and you can visit them. All right?_

_Awww..._

Talidor chuckled and gestured to the two, beckoning. _Come, now. I will show you. Gi'eshi, be careful with their hair! It may not feel anything when you touch it, but it hurts when you pull._

_Picka me, Isha! Picka me up!_

Sa'avi glanced at her as she obliged, stooping and placing her once more on her hip. _Talidor,_ she said privately, _is... is that one about to be a mother itself?_

_Indeed._

She eyed Isha with a mixture of caution and curiosity, her gaze lingering on her scales and claws. _And… it is…_

_Yes._

_But how?_

Talidor called up a few memories in his mind, careful to omit certain parts and emphasize others. The mental images, although watered down, were sufficient explanation. Sa'avi gasped with shock.

_Talidor, that is terrible! Who could be so cruel to those poor creatures? And the male… so dangerous! You could have been killed!_

Talidor lowered his head. _That is true. However, I cannot turn back. It is my duty._

His mate shook her head. _Always so devoted…_

Zak stayed near the back of the group, the two guards hovering ominously behind him. They hadn't taken their eyes off him since they boarded the shuttle. It made him nervous, but he forced himself to ignore them. As long as he didn't cause any trouble, they wouldn't do anything.

He watched Isha and the Protoss child as they walked ahead, the small alien pointing excitedly at their surroundings as they passed. Isha responded with interest and awe to everything, and none of it was faked.

It was strange… she fit in so well here. She seemed to reflect everything around her, or perhaps everything was reflecting _her_…

How long had they been together, Zak wondered. How well had they known each other? How often had they touched, how did they meet, how many memories had there been in those blank spaces? Was the child in her womb really his? Had they really done it? He knew she had cared about him—she still did—but…

Had he cared about her? Was he even capable of caring? Had that strange, all-encompassing passion he'd felt within her ever come from him as well?

No, it couldn't have. Maybe Isha could feel, could care, could love, but he couldn't. He was a Ghost. A weapon. He wasn't even _human…_

They arrived at a massive building, its shape and design defying the conventional rules of architecture. It was here that Gi'eshi—reluctantly—slid out of Isha's hold and trotted over to her mother. The other two children were somewhat disappointed that they couldn't harass the strange aliens from the Koprulu Sector anymore, but neither of them showed much signs of loss. Talidor and his mate touched foreheads again in a silent parting, and the woman led the trio of younglings away, bowing slightly to both the soldier and the Terrans as the family departed. Gi'eshi kept running back to say one last goodbye, and her mother finally had to carry her to get her to come home.

"They're all so sweet," Isha sighed, "Gi'eshi especially."

Talidor nodded, both proud and embarrassed. _They are a great blessing upon me… but come. I would like to get you settled before moonrise._

He led them up a long, broad stairway to the yawning, doorless entrance of the building. Golden columns and arches twisted around it, beautifully crafted and with a smooth, organic shape.

"Hey, Isha?" Zak piped up before they stepped inside.

She looked at him with her crystal-blue eyes, her silky hair catching the light of the setting sun. "Yes?"

Zak scratched his head, averting his gaze. "Um, thanks. For calling the kids off. I thought I was a goner…"

A slight smile lit her features. "Aw come on, they're not that bad. Gi'eshi's a sweetheart, really."

"She called me a girl!"

Isha snorted, putting a hand to her mouth. "So she did."

"She called me 'Leerana'!"

Isha snorted again and shook her head. "Well... get used to it, cause you're gonna be... a..." she stopped and looked down, then stepped inside before he could say anything else.

Everything was strictly practical, but it also gave the majestic sense that everything else the Protoss did as well. A few of the things Isha recognized, like the beds and the instruments, but many others she didn't. It was much more spacious here then on the _Gantrithor,_ and small branching hallways indicated more rooms.

_Here,_ Talidor stated, gesturing. _Terran, you are here... and Isha, you in the adjoining. Make sure you _do not visit him, he added to Isha, privately.

Isha bit her lip. "Talidor?" she whispered when Zak disappeared down the hall.

_Yes, little one._

"When will I be able to tell him? When will he be better?"

_He is recovering quite well,_ Talidor answered. _He was not hostile towards my children at all, even though their suddenness… frightened him. I believe this to be a major step for him._ The red-eyed Protoss ran his hand over several lit panels, activating this and adjusting that… _This is only a rough estimate, but I believe you could begin supervised visits within a week._

"'Supervised visits'? Tali-_dorrrr..._"

He scowled at her. _Do you _want_ him to relapse?_

"No, no..."

He turned away and ran an instrument over his hand, checking it, then nodded to himself. _...better... Do not fear, Isha; you may also visit my children. Gi'eshi most certainly likes you._

Isha suddenly got an idea and perked up. "Will your wife continue my lessons on mothering?"

Talidor looked up. _Hm… That is quite the idea… I don't see why she wouldn't… I will be sure to ask her. Now…_ He took the instrument he was holding and ran it along Isha's arm. _Ah, good. Now, make yourself comfortable and rest. In the morning, I will return with my colleagues, and research will resume._

Isha rolled her eyes. "Oh, great…"

_We will respect your privacy… for the most part. Don't give me that look; none of it will be damaging. Good night, child._

Isha sat down on the bed and muttered good night.

"Wait… Talidor?"

_Hm?_

She shifted uncertainly. "Um… could you tell Zak good night for me?"

The Protoss's face softened. _Of course. Now, go to sleep._

In a few short minutes, Talidor repeated the checks on Zak.

"Gonna be more tests, I take it…" Zak mumbled, glaring at the instruments he recognized.

_Stop complaining so._

Zak huffed and flopped on his bed. "Yeah, try having a probe jammed up your ass and see how _you_ like it…"

_Never have any of our instruments gone—_

"You're missing my point. Cute kids, by the way."

Talidor smiled. _Ah, so you like them?_

"Pft! No, I just said they were cute. They ambushed me, remember?"

Talidor chuckled. _Your stubbornness is quite amusing. Rest, and I will return in the morning._

"I'll be counting the moments," Zak muttered sarcastically.

The healer was on his way out. He paused, then delivered his message without turning around. _Isha wishes you good night._

Zak raised his head. "She does?"

_Farewell, Terran._

Zak watched the empty doorway for a while, slightly confused. After a while, he smiled to himself. "She does," he said softly, closing his eyes. His arms wrapped themselves around a pillow, and he pulled it into his chest. It was a strange new habit of his, one that he'd been doing since he'd woken up on the _Gantrithor_. He wondered vaguely where such a habit had come from…

He rested his head against the soft fabric. "G'night, Isha," he whispered.

Isha awoke to many pairs of eyes gazing down at her. Two were blue, one was gold, three were different shades of green, and one was red.

She pulled the covers over her head. "Talidor!"

_It is midmorning, young one._

"Dammit Talidor..."

He chuckled as his colleagues murmured to each other telepathically, staring at her in fascination. Hands ran over her shoulders and back and—

"Okay!" She leapt to her feet, slapping at the hands. "Stop it! I'm up!"

_My apologies, Terran,_ one said—she couldn't figure out who. _But this you are amazing! What do—_

She swallowed as another pair of hands touched her. "Okay. _Stop._ I-I can't think..."

Talidor sensed her memories surfacing and gestured to his colleagues. _Leave her be. Isha, there are clean clothes and bathing material in that alcove. I have brought some food and put it on the table._ He gestured to the small floating table in the middle of the room. _Dress, wash, eat, and come out._

"Don't wanna," she mumbled.

_Come out anyway._ He shooed his colleagues out. _Or I'll come and get you._

She stuck her tongue out at him and slouched to the alcove. God, her stomach ached.

Thinking of the baby made her think of Zak. She could just imagine what kind of wake-up he was getting...

"_Wake up, sleepyhead." Smiling. Beautiful._

Zak eased his eyes open, an unfamiliar smell filling his nostrils. He coughed and sat up, finally releasing his vice grip on the pillow. He'd been dreaming again. It had been a nice dream, too—no Zerg, no operating rooms, no people staring at him with horrified eyes begging for their lives…

Why did he have to wake up _then?_ It wasn't even morning yet! Alas, it was habit. He hopped out of bed, his feet thumping softly against the cool, smooth floor. His hands automatically set to work tugging all the wrinkles out of the blankets and tucking them immaculately back in, setting the pillows at perfect angles until everything was crisp and sharp…

He stared at the now made bed. Why had he done that? It's not like he had to anymore. He ran away from that life.

Habit.

With a shrug, he dropped to the ground, exercising and stretching…

He didn't have to do that anymore, either.

Whatever. Habit. Push-ups, one arm, other arm, lunges, squats, blah blah blah…

He sat down, perched at the edge of the bed. Now what? The sun hadn't even risen…

Figuring what the hell, he lay down and drifted back to sleep. He didn't have much else to do, and if he was lucky, he could dream again.

_"Oh. Hey. Did I miss anything?"_

_"Of course not." A kiss. Perfect. Beautiful._

_Awaken, Terran._

Zak leapt out of bed. "Sir," he barked, snapping to attention.

Talidor cocked his head. _That was odd._

Zak saw whom it was, sighed, and relaxed. "Oh. It's you."

He wasn't alone. There were other Protoss behind him, whispering telepathically to each other.

_My, this is indeed a fascinating specimen, Talidor…_

_Speak for yourself. I can smell it from here._

_Does it really have telepathic capabilities?_

_A telepathic Terran? You mean they have that kind of brain power?_

_Kelios, please, shut up…_

"You brought friends," Zak mumbled. "Great."

Talidor shook his head and shooed them away. _I told you to leave until I called you!_

_Ah, but brother! This is such a wonderful opportunity! Why can we not begin now?_

_Out!_ Talidor waved his arms violently, and the small crowd dispersed. The Protoss shook his head, rubbing his temples. _Bloody fools, the lot of them… Anyway, Terran, I have brought you clothing and food. Go wash yourself over there, eat, and wait for my return. And do stay out of trouble…_

Zak made a sarcastic remark, making his way over to the pile of good on the table. More fruit, and it was the sweet kind. Again. The clothing was strange—a hybrid between a shirt and a vest and who knew what else, reddish-brown in color with black and gold embroidery, sleeveless, with a v-neck that crisscrossed itself and probably went down past his ribs; a white piece that he assumed went under the vest-thingy; a dark sash that tied around his waist or something…

He shot a glare at the last article of clothing. No way in hell was he wearing a skirt, not even if it was floor-length. His pants were staying. He'd wear the top ensemble to humor them, sure, but no skirt.

He crammed a piece of fruit into his mouth, gagged at the overly-sweet nectar, stripped, and stepped into the circular bath built into the floor. It was significantly cooler, and much, much deeper, than he expected.

"Hoshit!" he squeaked, pulling himself up against the rim of the pool. He stared into the water, prepared himself, and let go. The cool water came up almost to his armpits. "Yeesh," he muttered, grabbing what he assumed was soap and washing away.

There was a massive scar where his shoulder connected to his torso. It had never been there before… It looked like a stab wound… And a deep scar across his leg, like some great animal had bit him there… Zerg? He didn't remember ever being attacked _there…_

Old bullet wound on his arm. He remembered that one. So his brain wasn't entirely scrambled…

After he finished washing, he hauled himself out of the water. He found a use for the skirt-thing—it made a nice towel. He got dressed, sat down on the edge of the bed, and waited.

What was Talidor planning, anyway?

"Ouch! Talidor!"

_Why must you insist on moving? Is it a characteristic of your kind? I keep telling you—_it will only hurt when you move!

"Yeah, yeah..."

Talidor sighed, sliding the instrument into her arm again. It was actually a rather fancy-looking needle, able to extract blood plasma from the blood itself. And Isha had to admit, it didn't hurt at all. "Why do you have to extract 'blood plasma' anyway?" she asked irritably. "What is it gonna do?"

_Help us with our research._

"Blood plasma?"

_Yes. There. Done._ He pulled it out, wiped the puncture clean, and turned to his eagerly-waiting colleague. _Here._

"What are you searching for, anyway?"

_We are not "searching for" anything. We are merely studying you._

Isha sighed, kicking her feet absently off the side of the overlarge table. "Can I go now?"

_No._

"Well, where's Zak? And did you ask your wife about that?"

_Good Gods, child! Enough with the questions!_

"C'monnnnnn..."

Talidor rolled his eyes. _You are _impossible!_ I am sure your mate is fine; his behavior has not been much worse than yours. Let us finish and you _might_ get to see him today._

Isha sat up. "Really?"

If _you let us finish._

"How much longer?"

_That depends on how much you cooperate._

"Well, supposing I cooperated…"

_We finish when we finish!_ Talidor exclaimed, raising his arms and letting them drop—a gesture of exasperation. _Right now you are wasting time!_

Isha shrank back. "Oh. Um, so will your wife—?"

_Tomorrow. Now, hold still and be quiet._

"Sorry."

_Shush!_

Zak glanced suspiciously around the group of researchers surrounding him. He rubbed his arm where various instruments had poked and prodded him. "That's it?"

_For now,_ one said. _We shall return tomorrow._

"That was awfully short for you," Zak said. "I mean, usually I have to fight you guys off…"

The Protoss exchanged nervous glances. Zak picked up traces of their whispers.

_Talidor does not want us to…_

_It is still very fragile…_

_… is constantly monitored…_

_Does it suspect…?_

Finally, one of them stepped forward. _Talidor has requested we put you under as little stress as possible, at least until you fully recover._

"From _what?!_" Zak promptly stood. "What are you talking about… that resoc thing? What are you hiding?" He stepped forward, and the researcher noticeably shrank back.

_It is time we must leave. Farewell._ The Protoss filed out of the room, rather rapidly. Their behavior was easy enough to recognize. They were afraid of him.

Eyeing the various instruments throughout the room with renewed suspicion, Zak sat back down. He knew his every move was being watched.

"Okay, that's _enough,_ can I see Zak now?"

_Isha, my patience is running low._

"Look, I've been sitting here patiently while you guys have poked me and prodded me—"

_"Patiently" is not the word I was thinking of._

"—for four hours—"

_Three and a half._

"—and I think it's time we at _least_ take a break. I'm not an animal, at least that's what everyone tells me, so stop treating me like one! I'm not a lab rat!"

_Isha, you are being—_

"Perfectly reasonable." Isha slipped off the bed, glaring at the scientist. "Now _please,_ I'm _begging_ you, let me outta here!"

With another exasperated throwing of the arms, Talidor put his recent instrument away. _Very well._

Zak was sprawled out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He was thinking to himself… about the Confederacy, about what he could remember, about the blank spaces, about the Zerg and Protoss, about Isha…

Isha. There was a mystery. Some half-alien freak was four months pregnant with his kid, and until recently he'd been under the impression he was a virgin…

He wondered vaguely what it'd been like. He couldn't imagine it, and it didn't help that he couldn't remember, either. It was bizarre—him? Sex? The two didn't go together. Hell, he'd gotten a nice beating after he'd gotten curious about a certain organ of his… He almost pitied Isha; he must have been a real idiot...

She loved him. Why? Because they did it? No. Why did she love him? Who had he been? What had he done? Weapons don't _love!_ Whatever the hell had the poor kid seen in him? Only Isha had the answers, and she wasn't allowed to tell. Damn Protoss…

His senses alerted him that someone was approaching. He sat up, his cold chips of eyes locked on the door. His body automatically tensed… and then relaxed. Just Talidor. Zak was about to say something when the red-eyed alien gestured to the side…

And in walked Isha. Apparently, the Protoss had supplied her with clothing as well. It suited her far better than it did _him…_ The cloth framed her, wrapped around her, hung in all the right places, had he seen her like this before wow he didn't know she really looked like that…

Zak gave a slight shake of his head. Was he staring? Christ…

"Hey," he murmured, glaring at the floor and scratching his head. _Idiot,_ he told himself.

"Hey," Isha repeated. He could tell she was smiling.

Mentally kicking himself, he grabbed desperately for something to say. "So… did you face the wrath of the probe-thing today? Or was that reserved for me?"

"I'm sure they just used it for you," Isha said cheerfully, grinning. Zak raised an eyebrow, desperately searching for something else to say, and she decided to rescue him. "Enjoying yourself here?"

"Pffffft..."

She laughed, stepping forward and leaning against the table. Talidor waited patiently. "They treating you okay?"

"Meh. Can't complain. Though the food could be a lot better..."

Talidor shook his head. _I apologize for the lack of nutrition. We are experimenting with other types of food we picked up in your mind, and should be finished in a few days._

"Good. Can't think with all the sweet shit going to my brain."

Isha cocked her head. "What is it with you and sweet?"

Zak shrugged. "Just don't like it, that's all."

Isha rolled her eyes. "Well, what _do_ you like?"

He scratched his head again. He'd never really thought of what he liked. No one had ever asked him before. "I dunno…"

"You _have_ to like _something…_"

Zak snorted. "As if anybody here's gonna make a special order…"

"At least give me a general _flavor…_"

He sighed and gazed off into a corner, thinking. What _did_ he like? He had never eaten much other than whatever flavorless, "highly nutritional" substance the Program fed him. He doubted a single natural ingredient went into the stuff…

"Bitter," he finally said. "Stuff with a bite to it."

Isha raised an eyebrow. "That's weird."

"Hey, you asked."

"Why would you like something that tastes bad?"

"Because," he began, but couldn't find any good reasons to back his preferences up. "I just… I dunno… I know it's real that way."

Isha stared at him, puzzled. "You think the fruit's fake?"

"Nah, too much sweet stuff just makes me feel sick."

Her gaze dropped. "Oh."

Zak shifted, trying to fill the gap in the conversation. The kid came in here to talk, and it bothered him to shoo her away. After all, they should get to know each other before—he glanced at her swollen belly—before he was a…

"Okay, your turn," he said, leaning forward slightly, shoving his thoughts out of his mind. "I told you what _I_ like, so now you gotta tell me."

Talidor watched the two humans very carefully. Zak was recovering well. His memories would come back slowly and gradually, so long as Isha did not do anything to alter the process. Yes, the slower the better. If the girl engaged in any intimate behavior with him, then the memories would come back suddenly and there was the risk of him backsliding and…

One of his fellow healers tapped him on the shoulder. 

_Talidor, sir?_

_Can this wait?_

_It cannot sir,_ the healer replied, a strange mix of anger, sadness, and fear winding around his thoughts. _You need to come with me._

Isha didn't much care that Talidor left. She was with Zak, after all. "Everything."

"Everything?"

"Yep."

He tilted his head. "C'mon, you can't like _everything_."

She smiled. "And you can't _not_ like everything."

Zak's mouth twitched. "Well, I guess you've got me there. But why everything?"

Isha's smiled turned into a beaming grin. "Life! It's fantastic! Blood rushes through your veins and makes you live; I learned _that_ young with all the blood I lost during Master's 'playful' or angry moods..." She bit her lip. "I love the way the sun reflects off the leaves when the wind blows." She gestured out the window. "I love how the golden grass shines. I love how the air fills our lungs and feeds our blood with oxygen." Smiling, she settled a hand on her stomach. "And I absolutely love how there's a whole new being growing inside of me right here... right now."

Zak sighed and shook his head. "Life's fantastic, huh? Wish I could see things from your point of view…" He stood up and walked to the window, showing his hands in his pockets and leaning against the wall. "I'm not much one for depth. A tree's a tree. A rock's a rock. Life is a state of being immediately proceeding death." He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes going from Isha's face to her rounded belly. "I still can't grasp that I… well, I helped make that… I mean, I've never really _made_ anything… Ah, forget it." He turned back to the window.

A flicker of Isha's thoughts crossed his mind. It was too vague to make out anything in particular, but it carried just a touch of emotion. She was happy to be with him, but was somehow sad…

"Hey, Isha?" he said, turning again. "Before I… before I got ugly… who was I?"

_Sir, we were running tests on the fetus and—well, if you look at the data here…_

Talidor crossed his arms, his red eyes scanning the charts before him. _The child is addicted._

_Not just addicted, sir. It is reliant. The mother's body has been providing it with small amounts of aisine, and it needs the substance just as much as oxygen and blood._

_So when it is born…_

_Based on what we know about Terrans, the child will continue to receive aisine from its mother's milk, but as soon as she stops breastfeeding…_

Talidor shook his head. _It will suffer the curse as well._

"I can't tell you," Isha said softly. "Not until they say I can. I'm... I'm sorry."

Talidor came flowing into the room. _Isha._

She glanced at him. "Not more tests..."

_No. Come with me. There is something I must tell you._

"Tell her what?"

_This is not of your concern, Terran,_ Talidor said gravely, barriers going up around his mind. _This way, Isha…_

Zak glared at their backs as he watched them go. He hated how they withheld so much from him. Normally, it wouldn't have bothered him; he could just read their thoughts…

But that was blocked. He was in the dark.

He picked up the first thing he could find—he thought it was a piece of fruit or something—and threw it hard against the wall. _Bunch of assholes,_ he fumed silently.

Talidor had Isha sit down before he began to speak. _Isha, I am afraid you have passed on your curse. The child has been receiving aisine through your womb since conception, and we have significant evidence to believe he has become dependent._

It was a good thing he had Isha sit. Else, she would have passed out.

"No, that—that isn't—"

_I am sorry._

Isha stared at him, then put her head in her hands. Tears streaked down her face. "No..."

Her baby. Her baby boy was going to be as dependent as her on the horrible drug. "H-He... no..."

Worriedly he put a hand on her shoulder. _Isha, I am truly sorry. I would never wish such a thing on my most dire enemy..._

She wasn't listening. Her baby...

...all because of her Master.

"I hate him."

_Isha...?_

"I hate him!" She snapped her head up. "I hate him, I fucking HATE him!"

_Keep your voice—_

"No!" She lunged at him, hammering his chest with her fists. "I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him—"

Zak jerked his head up. Isha's curses echoed down the hallway, and he could feel an overpowering rage, even from such a distance. He stood.

The door was open. A sole guard stood outside, and demanded he return to his quarters. Zak snapped an insult at him and ducked into the next room.

Talidor was trying desperately to push Isha away. _Please, clam down, control yourself, child…_

"'Scuse me," Zak muttered flatly, stepping between them. He took Isha's barrage, her fists as well as her thoughts. Pain. Anger. The child—his son—was cursed, cursed like she was.

"I hate him I hate him it's all his fault I fucking hate him—"

Without thinking, he drew her into an embrace. "Relax, Isha. It'll be okay."

Talidor came out of his daze. _Terran! What are you doing?! Get back in your quarters!_

"Shut up," Zak muttered. He didn't know what he was doing or why. It just seemed like a good idea. He cupped the back of Isha's head in his hands. "It's okay."

She shook her head. "It's all his fault! It's all his _fault,_ if he hadn't—I _hate_ him!"

"It's okay," he repeated softly. "It'll be okay."

"It'll never be okay! Never!"

His arms were around her. She was safe here; safe in his arms, he would protect her and save her and keep her from everyone else... she put her head on his chest, letting out long, choking sobs. Her Master's face hung in front of her. He was laughing; the needle hung in front of her face as he dangled it mockingly just out of reach... the heat as it infused her flesh, piercing the back of her neck and sending her into a drug-induced ecstasy... the agony of her body's DNA being forcibly warped, and her fingers bled as her nails just kept growing... so much pain...

"I hate him."

"I know."

They were being pried apart. The Zealot had a firm grasp on his upper arms, pulling him away, and Talidor was pinning her own arms to her sides. Zak struggled a little bit, but in the end went quietly; Isha huddled on a bed, sobbing.

_I hate him... oh Zak..._


	8. Chapter 8

Zak was thrown—rather forcefully—back into his quarters. He stood up slowly, rubbing his back where he had landed. "Yeah, thanks a lot, buddy."

_Silence. You are to remain here._

"I kinda figured out that part," he grumbled, sitting down, and glaring at a random spot on the wall.

He remembered him.

Her master. Ulrezaj. The monster with the cold-flame eyes and the sadistic laugh. The bastard Zak had sworn to kill…

Running from him on Mar Sara. Confronting him on Char. So close, almost had him, then got ugly. So _that's_ why they'd blocked his memories…

Isha. Finding her out on the rocks, dying. He saved her. She went crazy, tried to kill him…

She loved him.

_Stop. Shut it out._

Antiga Prime. Zerg. Mengsk, Raynor, Kerrigan. Isha followed him out and stayed with him…

He loved her.

_Stop it. Shut it out. I can't take it. Stop._

The _Hyperion._ Twenty years old. She went crazy again. They barely were alive. His brain clicked, the programming rewrote itself…

He taught her how to fight. How to shoot. How to read.

They did it—they made love…

_Dammit, stop! No more! That's not me!_

Char. Hell. Zerg.

Protoss. Saved.

They did it again.

_Ghosts don't love, Ghosts don't feel, stop it stop it that's not me…_

Tried to run. Almost killed. Isha hated him. Found Raynor.

More doing it.

Zerg attack. Protoss. Base-hopping.

Again—six times total. They'd done it six times.

_That's not me. Let it stop, let it be over, please…_

Then _him._

Blackout.

Zak doubled over, feeling cold and nauseous. He breathed heavily, resisting the urge to puke. It was too much—too much, can't take it…

He was going to be a father. His son wasn't even born yet and already damned.

He sat back up, closing his eyes and forcing the sickness away. _Just shut it out._

Isha. It all came back to her. He tried to love her, he tried to be human…

And he'd broken down. Gotten ugly, just like when he'd missed the target.

Just like when he'd killed a man in front of his seven-year-old daughter.

Just like when he'd decided to run.

He put his head in his hands. _What the hell happened to me?_

_Are you mad?_ Talidor snapped. _Look what you almost did—he nearly broke, and he is barely keeping himself together now!_

Isha let out a small whimper, still curled up on the bed. "'M sorry, Talidor, 'm sorry, I didn't..."

His face softened and he set a hand on her shoulder. _Child, you are not allowed to see him for another week, at the very least. Do you understand?_

She nodded, choking back tears.

_Now... my children are eager to see you again. How about one of the guards bring you outside, and you can meet with them? Sa'avi will be with them, so they will not get out of control._

Her face brightened slightly and she nodded again, giving him a small smile. He patted her shoulder and summoned a Zealot, who waited patiently until she was on her feet again and walking towards the door.

If she was going to have a child, it was best if she learned how to work with children, Talidor thought to himself, then went to speak to Zak.

_What the hell is wrong with me?!_

The question kept resurfacing in Zak's mind. Parts of his memory that had been blank spaces just moments ago were now resurfacing with sickening detail. It was an ongoing battle to stop himself from screaming or throwing up.

_Stay with me kid don't go crazy stay outta my head we're gonna make it I'll do whatever you ask just don't hurt the kid you promised the kid would stay out of this ZERG just drop the bomb and run DON'T EVER CALL HER THAT they used the emitter Isha please BRING HER BACK I've got it under control I'M NOT HUMAN Isha is the objective she's beautiful I love her ZERG don't run Isha please Protoss Isha's okay I'm sorry no don't touch her RUN ISHA don't touch me together she's mine DARK TEMPLAR BASTARDS I need to be ready emotion is weakness no emotion is not weakness make her mine again she won't run she's safe with me ZERG PROTOSS she's pregnant I'LL KILL HIM SHE'S MINE SHE'S ALL THAT MATTERS DON'T TOUCH HER Isha what the fuck is happening that's not me that can't be me Ghosts don't feel shut it out stop it I can't take it stop…_

Finally, the wave subsided, slipping back to its shadowy origins somewhere in the back of his mind. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto his shaking hands.

He understood.

Isha couldn't talk to him because he was "recovering." They refused to tell him anything because he was still "fragile." Now he knew what they had meant.

They'd taken his memories from him. They saw the truth—why Ghosts don't feel, what happens when they do—and it scared the shit out of them. They wanted to make sure he wouldn't get ugly again.

His nausea turned to a cold rage. Why not just kill him, then? If he was so dangerous, why not get rid of him?

Because he was a psychic. Gifted, unique, a rare specimen. But if they found out he remembered…

He'd never see the sun again. Or Isha, for that matter. They'd never let him be near her again. He might never get the chance to see his son…

He clenched his fists. They wouldn't find out. He'd play their stupid game, let them think he was in their control, then maybe…

Maybe he could fix all the things he did wrong. There was so much he still didn't understand. He didn't want to lose it all again. If he acted up, they'd take it away.

Just like the Program.

Talidor chose that moment to make his usual flowing entrance. _Terran, I need to speak with you._

Zak quickly forced his musings out of his consciousness. "Yeah, what about?"

_To put it simply, your behavior,_ the alien said, glancing at him out the corner of his glowing red eye. _You should not have so blatantly disregarded protocol._

Zak focused on keeping his mind blank. He scratched his head and knitted his brows, going through the typical motions. "Oh. Not supposed to leave my room without an escort. Right. Sorry. It won't happen again."

Talidor eyed him suspiciously, then nodded. _For your own sake, it had better not._

Zak waited for the alien to leave before lying down, once again pulling a pillow into his chest. It wasn't Isha, but it was the closest substitute he could find.

He wanted to be with her. He wanted to just talk to her, get to know her again, maybe even be close to her like they used to…

_No. Don't do that again. You'll get ugly._

He hugged the pillow tighter, wishing he could ignore his conscience. He had loved her then, he loved her now, he always loved her…

_You can't love. You're a weapon._

He was going to be a father! So his kid was addicted, he could handle it; Isha was okay so long as she had the drug. He could take care of them both easily…

_You couldn't take care of her, remember? You got ugly. Weapons don't take care of anything—they destroy._

Yes, he was a weapon. But he could pretend to be human. Even if he couldn't love for real, he could still try. Isha loved him, after all. He could still raise his boy, teach him everything he knew, fix all his mistakes…

_Stop fooling yourself. You're not a father, you're not a lover, you're not even human. You already tried to be human, and look where that got you. You got ugly. Just face it, dumbass, the man Isha knew wasn't you. It was all a fluke. It should have never happened._

But he loved her.

_No, you don't. Drop it and leave it alone._

He could try. He closed his eyes, letting the memories flow back in, studying them intently. He observed himself in all of them, seeing what made Isha smile and what made her cry. He could be perfect for her, and then they'd let him out, and then he wouldn't have to worry about forgetting anything ever again because he'd be free. He'd run away with Isha and they'd go somewhere where they could be a family and he wouldn't have to be a weapon anymore because there wouldn't be any more fighting…

And he'd keep it all a secret. Ghosts were good at keeping secrets.

He knew his objective: play the game, be human, and Isha would be his again.

_Don't do it. You'll get ugly._

He could see her clearly now. She was smiling at him, her scars and scales all gone. She was perfect. A little boy with black hair and hazel eyes clung tightly to her graceful, clawless hand. He looked up at her and she nodded, then, breaking into a broad grin and a childish giggle, he ran over to Zak and tugged at the bottom of his shirt.

"C'mon, Daddy! Momma says we can go home now! You was gonna play with me, remember? You promised!"

Zak bent down and put a hand on the boy's head. "I did promise, didn't I?"

Smiling wider still, the boy tightly hugged his father's mid-section. "Yup!"

"Well, then we'd better get going," Zak said, scooping the boy up in his arms and beaming back at him. He heard Isha's musical giggle, and she walked alongside him, letting him put a hand on her beautifully curved hip.

Everything was perfect. They were together. Happy. Safe.

_Don't fool yourself. You know it could never be like that._

"Daddy?"

"Mm," Zak replied absently, his soft, hazel eyes staring off into the distance.

"You and Momma and me will always be together, right?" The boy put his head on his father's shoulder, his little fingers gripping tightly to the brown fabric of Zak's faded jacket.

"Of course we will," Zak crooned. "Momma and I love you very much. We'd never leave you."

"Never ever?"

"Never ever." He gazed adoringly at his son, and felt Isha press against his side. His arm automatically tightened around her, and she sighed contentedly.

"Don't worry, sweetie," she almost whispered. "We'll be together forever. It's where we belong." She smiled up at Zak with her gorgeous crystalline eyes, and they shared a quick kiss.

"Eew! Now you guys are getting gross!"

"Hey!" Zak gave the boy a mock-scolding look. "Momma kisses _you_ all the time!"

"Yeah, but you're grown-ups!"

Isha shook her head. "Oh, stop it, you two!"

"Isha…"

"Momma!"

"Sometimes I really wonder which one of you is more childish…"

"Aw, come on, Isha…" Zak's mouth tugged into a lopsided grin.

"Heehee! Momma said you were a little kid!"

"And what are you, squirt?"

"Betcha I'm more grown-up than you!"

"Oh, you're on!" He set the boy down. "First one back home is the new man of the house! Ready?"

"Go!" the child cried excitedly. He bolted ahead, his father intentionally keeping two steps behind him.

"Hey, you little cheater! I'm gonna win!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Boys," Isha called after them, "be careful, okay? No scraped knees from either of you!"

_You're lying to yourself. You know it could never be real._

Isha flinched as Gi'eshi slammed into her, her hands automatically protecting her stomach. "Hey, beautiful."

_IshaIsha you're back!_

"I've stayed here, silly; you're the one who left."

_Did not!_ the little Protoss tugged her hand. _Play!_

"Play what?"

_I ride you!_

_Gi'eshi, be gentle,_ Sa'avi said softly. _They are quite delicate, remember._

Isha flinched, a bitter expression crossing her face, but otherwise didn't say anything. "That's right."

_Well, then play the finding game!_

_Aw, not that,_ complained the eldest.

_Speak for yourself, I always wanted to play that again; we never—_

_Finding game! Finding game!_

Isha held out her hands. "How about half an hour of the 'finding game,' and then half an hour of whatever you want?"

There was a brief silence, then three _Yes!_ and the others bolted in opposite directions, giggling.

The eldest, reluctant to play, was the first to be found.

_Not fair,_ he grumbled, sitting cross-legged on the ground, arms stubbornly folded. _They're smaller—they hide easier. Temla's in that tree over there, by the way._

_Cheater!_ The middle child leapt from the branches. _That's against the rules!_

_I told you I didn't want to play..._

_That gave you no right to cheat!_ She put her hands on her hips, a stance frequently assumed by her mother. _Just because you never have any fun doesn't mean you can ruin it for the rest of us!_ The little Protoss lunged at her brother, and the two tumbled to the ground. Their mother was quick to intervene.

_How shameful!_ she scolded, pulling them apart. _Both of you know better!_

_It's not my fault Temla's so touchy..._

_Cheater!_

_Touchy!_

_Children!_ Sa'avi gave them both a warning look. _You came to play, not to fight!_ She turned to Isha. _Please forgive them; they have difficulty getting along._

A small telepathic giggle cut through the conversation.

_Gi'eshi's still hiding,_ the eldest stated flatly. _Better find her, or she'll stay out there forever._

Zak watched the whole thing from his window. Isha was wonderful with the children, and he wished he could be there, too...

Why was she playing with them, anyway? They weren't _her_ children! They were distracting her, taking her away from him...

_Don't think like that. She's not yours._

Zak sighed, obeying his nagging conscience. He could still watch them, though. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine a black-haired boy with hazel eyes running with them...

Isha grinned as Temla trotted after, grabbing at her robe.

"You can't see her, remember?" she called. "She's invisible."

Temla paused, considering, and Gi'eshi bolted off again, hiding in a nearby bush. Buro sighed. _What we need is an observer._

"Well, where will you get one?"

_The observatory!_ He pointed to a tree. _That's the observatory. It'll take little while for it to warp in, though..._

"Meanwhile, the Dark Templar is wandering around your base. Dear, dear. What will you do?"

_Bring all the bystanders into the Nexus! That means you!_ He grabbed her arm—surprisingly strong for one so young—and dragged her over to sit on the steps. _You're safe now._

"I didn't feel threatened to begin with," she replied mildly, but didn't pursue the subject. Buro and Temla prowled around her while waiting for the "observer" to build, and Gi'eshi soon skipping around them and singing _You can't see me,_ over and over again.

Finally Buro pointed to the tree and shouted, _Observer!_ And both he and Temla bolted for Gi'eshi, trying to grab her. They ended up wrestling in a large ball, rolling around and around until their mother told them to stop.

_You mustn't fight like that,_ she admonished, _it's not fitting for a Khalai._

"Screw the Khalai," Isha muttered under her breath, so soft that they didn't hear. The guard, however, must have caught the gist of it and glared down at her, to which she ignored.

_Can we go swimming now?_ Gi'eshi whined.

Buro and Temla stared at their sister in shock. _You're still not tired!?_

Gi'eshi grinned. _Nope!_ She bounced over to Isha and Sa'avi, hopping in place and tugging at both their hands. _Come on, can we can we can we?_

Sa'avi sighed. _Yes, but not for very long. You need to get home soon._

_Yay!_ The child threw her arms around her mother's waist, then did the same to Isha. The Terran cringed from the sudden impact, but didn't protest.

_So,_ Buro whispered to his sister, _where do you think she gets the energy?_

_Sucks it out of us, of course,_ Temla replied without hesitating.

Gi'eshi's favorite place to swim was just outside the city, in the forest that surrounded it. There was a creek there, the water clear and pure, that ran along a leafy path and cascaded into a deep, rocky pool.

Without hesitation, Gi'eshi bolted to the top of the little waterfall, and with a shout cast off her dress and lept into the water. A splash sounded, and Buro followed, whooped, and somersaulted off the rocks. Temla poked a single long toe in the water.

_Seems a bit cold,_ she muttered.

_Aw, come on, Temla!_ Gi'eshi whined, sitting atop her brother's shoulders and waving. Buro splashed and sent a cold shower in the elder sister's direction. Temla squeaked and jumped back. Sa'avi just shook her head.

The guard chose to distance himself from the whole ordeal. He sat down under a shaded tree cross-legged and closed his eyes, resting, but alert.

Isha hesitated near the stream. The only swimming experience she'd had was when she had to wash her Master, and then she had something to hold on to... "Um..."

_Come on, Isha!_

"...Right. Okay. It's no big deal. Just a little stream..." Isha stepped forward and flinched at the cold water. "Eep!"

_You big baby!_ Buro splashed her.

_Buro,_ Sa'avi said sternly.

_Sorry..._

Isha sat on a rock and dangled her feet in the water. "I'm just gonna stay here..."

_Come on, Isha, please?_ Gi'eshi pleaded.

Isha bit her lip and slid a little farther in, pulling up the robe. "N-No, I think I'll stay here."

They splashed and played until Sa'avi decided it was time to go, wordlessly calling them out of the stream. Beyond them, the guard stood and shook himself, immediately ready.

_Awwww, Mother!_

_It is getting late, little one; it is time for you to resume your studies. All of you._

Over the next few days, a routine was quickly established. In the morning, Zak woke up early, went through his exercises, and waited patiently for testing to begin. Most of the tests involved him using his "gift" in one way or another, and it took a lot of energy out of him. Every time he got close to achieving something they wanted him to do, everything would all of a sudden be cut off, and he'd be left with a splitting headache. He hated the dampener.

It was strange... the Protoss seemed edgy about something. They were quieter, more solemn, and would often whisper to each other so softly that Zak couldn't make out a single thought. He chose to stay out of it—it wasn't his business, anyway, and they'd leave him alone if he behaved.

The afternoons were more enjoyable. He'd stand by his window, watching Isha play with the children. He envied their freedom, but looked forward to watching them nonetheless. Isha was so perfect with them...

In the evening, he was alone. He spent his time sorting out his newly regained memories—which he had still managed to keep a secret—and arguing silently with his conscience.

He formulated a plan for next time he'd see her. His memories told him what she loved about him, as well as what she hated. Anything intimate was of course out of the question, but he could still try to be human for her. He could be perfect.

_Don't get ugly,_ his conscience would warn him. _Don't get obsessed._

It had been one week.

"Talidor, you promised."

_I did no such thing..._

"Okay, maybe 'I promise' wasn't in the sentence, but you certainly said I could." Isha folded her arms and narrowed her eyes, letting him realize that she was _not_ backing down.

Talidor sighed and threw up his hands. _Fine. But I'm warning you—_

"We go through this every time I ask about Zak. I know the rules. I won't touch him or try to incite memories. I _know._"

With a scowl, the red-eyed Healer set down his instrument and, with a mental gesture, had a guard come out to follow them. _You are the most_ irritating—

"No I'm not; I'm sure you've met someone more irritating then me. Can we go now?" Isha turned without waiting for a reply and walked towards Zak's quarters. Talidor huffed, stepping in front of her and sliding a hand over the panel on the door. It opened.

Isha smiled as her eyes lit upon the former Ghost. "Hey, Zak."

"Hey," Zak replied with a small smile. "Haven't seen you in a while. They didn't lock you up, too, did they?"

Isha sat on the only chair in the room, a hand on her slowly growing stomach. "Nah. I, at least, behave." She stuck her tongue out at him, then grinned.

Zak allowed himself another small smile. "Well, apparently I don't like acting like a dog, eh?"

She threw an extra robe at him, but it fell short since she was giggling too much. "Oooh, you..."

"Me? Me, what?"

Isha rolled her eyes. "You're so immature!"

Now it was Zak's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh sure. You're the one throwing things, you know." He picked up the robe and tossed it back. "There... see, _now_ I'm immature."

She ducked, letting it sail over her head and hit Talidor's midsection, and the Healer sighed and picked it back up, folding it neatly before setting it on the table again. Isha grinned. "Sorry, Talidor."

They continued the light banter well into the night until Talidor announced it was time to go.

Isha responded with a rude comment, then turned back to Zak, who offered another rude comment, leaving Talidor quite stunned and indignant.

Talidor shook his grey head. _My children are more civilized..._

Zak snorted. "Oh, so you're the expert on 'civilized,' huh?" He looked at Isha and jabbed his thumb at the Protoss. "This guy'll have you curtseying if you aren't careful."

Talidor cocked his head. _What is 'curtseying'?_

Zak rolled his eyes. "Forget it. See you 'round, Isha."

"Bye, Zak."

"Hey, wait..."

Woman and Protoss stopped and turned.

"Tomorrow... do you think I could go outside?"

Talidor narrowed his ruby eyes. _If you behave._

"All right. Thanks." He gave Isha one last smile. "So, you gonna want to take a walk with me tomorrow or something? With proper military escort, of course."

Isha's eyes lit up. "Of course! I'll show you that stream we all went to a week ago. It's beautiful there."

He nodded. "Sounds good. I'll see you around."

"Yeah... bye." Isha almost skipped out the room, Talidor following more sedately.

_Be careful, Isha._

"Khas, I _know_—"

_No... the floor is wet right there. I don't want you to slip and fall._

Isha paused and looked down. It was true. There was a fine sheen of water on the floor. "What's that from?"

_My child running around after she went swimming today._ He chuckled softly.

"Oh... thanks."

He nodded, his eyes distant. Isha knew something was wrong... she'd known it for several days now. "Talidor... what's been going on lately?"

Talidor gazed at Isha, his red eyes unmoving. _You can feel our fear…_ He sighed, his shoulders and head sagging. _Then I see no point in keeping it from you. Being here gives you right enough to know._ A small shudder passed through his body and a tiny, psychic sob escaped him. It took all of his strength to utter the truth that he had tried so desperately to deny. _The Zerg… they have invaded. They are here, on Aiur._

"Oh."

She felt stupid. Was that all she could say? She had never had a home; the closest of which was the dark cave where her Master enjoyed torturing her. "I'm... I'm sorry." She put a hand on Talidor's shoulder. "But someone must drive them away, right? Your people wouldn't stand for that..."

He shook his head slowly, a quiet ripple behind his thoughts--something like a sob? _We can only hope. Come._ He started walking again. _It is late, and you should rest..._

"You know, just because I'm younger then you doesn't mean I'm a little kid."

Talidor paused, then let out a low chuckle. _I apologize. When Protoss females are pregnant, they tend to become rather... ah, aggressive and overprotective of random things, and then a few days before birth enter a nesting period during which _no_ one in their right mind would approach them..._

"You're rambling."

_Yes, yes..._ he gestured absently to the door to her quarters and waited until she was inside before closing the door, then wandered away. He himself was exhausted... he should sleep... yes, he should go sleep early. That would help.

Inside, Isha snuggled into the covers, waiting eagerly for the sun to rise and allow her to go on that walk.

It worked.

Zak was very proud of himself. It _worked!_ He'd acted exactly the way Isha liked him best, and he was even going to get _out_… for a short time, anyway. He was going to go outside and be with Isha. A small victory, but victory nonetheless.

It would be difficult to keep the act up, but it was worth it….

_Now, we have done this test before. This machine will be sending a focused psychic signal, and you must "shut it out," as you like to put it. Are you prepared?_

"Yeah, let's get this over with." Zak adjusted his position in his seat, preparing himself for the machine's assault. In a few seconds, his head filled with a quiet ringing. He shoved it aside easily. Then the ringing came back, stronger this time. He shoved that away, too.

Stronger. Shove. Stronger! Shove! _Stronger!_

He gripped the sides of the chair tightly and gritted his teeth, mentally pushing against the invisible force with all his might. It was going, going…

It was at that moment the dampener chose to kick in. His strength collapsed, and the noise rushed in for just a moment before abruptly coming to a halt. He doubled over, his head throbbing mercilessly. He hated the dampener.

_Ah. Good. That is the last test for the day._

"_Thank_ you," he cried, standing up and rubbing his temples. He looked over to the guard. "Hey, we can go now, right?"

The guard nodded.

They met right outside the building. Isha' eyes lit up the second she saw him, and she nearly ran up and hugged him weren't for the guard's hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, right... sorry."

He took his hand off her and she smiled at Zak. "Hey. Nice day, eh?"

"Yeah, like every single other day isn't as nice as this one."

She stuck out her tongue again and headed towards the woods. "C'mon, I'll show you the stream."

Zak returned the gesture and followed. The guards stayed close behind them, ever-present but perfectly silent.

"So," Zak said as he caught up to Isha and walked alongside her, casually stretching his arms before showing them into his pockets, "where is this stream of yours?"

Isha smiled and shook her head. "Oh, it's not mine. Talidor's kids found it. They like to swim there all the time, Gi'eshi especially."

"Gi'eshi? Isn't that the squirt that tried to adopt me?"

She chuckled. "Mm-hm. She's a real sweetheart. I think you'd like her."

"I dunno; that first impression of hers kinda scared me…"

"You baby…"

"What? Being tackled by a midget alien would freak—"

He stopped mid-sentence, noticing his surroundings for the first time. It was unlike anywhere he'd ever been before—everything was green and alive. The earth itself smelled fresh and energetic, and various animals chattered loudly, hidden amongst the leaves.

"This is…"

"It's what?"

"Um… it's… I've never seen so much _nature_ in one place before."

"Pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah…" Zak scanned the scenery again, but his eyes kept stealing the occasional glance at Isha. She fit in so well here…

It pissed him off. Why couldn't they touch each other? He wanted to so bad it was driving him crazy. There she was, right there, right _there_, and he couldn't even let her know that he remembered her. That he still loved her. For lack of better words, it sucked.

"C'mon," she said suddenly, her pace quickening. "It's just ahead!"

They stepped out of the trees…

And into what could have only been perfect.

"Wow," Zak said quietly, inhaling the cool mist from the waterfall. "I can see why you like this place so much…" Movement caught his eye. "Hey, what's over…? Isha, look at that!"

A large, cat-like creature was busy lapping up water from the stream. It looked up with piercing yellow eyes at the intruders, tensed, and loped away, its strangely patterned fur glistening in the sunlight as it melted into the brush.

Isha froze, then slowly smiled. "That was..."

"Amazing? Spectacular? Downright beautiful?"

"Every synonym you can think of." Her smile grew wider until she beamed dazzlingly, clutching both hands in front of her, and she glanced back at the guards. "What was that?"

_A Bengalaas,_ one replied, gazing where it had leapt.

Isha turned to Zak. "Let's follow it!"

"Oh no you don't. You wouldn't be able to track it... besides, what if it mistook you for lunch?"

"C'mon... chicken."

"What...? I'm no chicken!"

"Are too. Chicken! Cluck cluck cluck!"

Zak rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. Let's go follow the big kitty."

Isha pouted. "You _could_ be a little more enthusiastic!"

He shook his head, ambling over to where the Bengalaas had disappeared. "We don't want to scare it off. You wanna find it, then we gotta be quiet. See, here's its tracks…" He crouched down, running a finger around the edges of the large paw print. "Here, kitty, kitty," he whispered, his enhanced eyes picking out the tiniest of details—a bluish hair here, a broken twig there…

Isha folded her arms. "So, oh great tracker, which way did it go?"

"Right though here," he replied, standing up. "Careful of the bushes, there. Be as quiet as possible."

They stepped into the brush, a large shadow over them alerting them that the guards were following them. Zak could see the other silently creeping close to the ground.

"Well, you guys are sure getting into this…"

_Our orders are to keep you in our sight,_ the guard behind them replied.

_Indeed,_ said the other. _Besides, neither one of you know how to properly traverse these jungles._

"Yeah, whatever," Zak muttered under his breath.

Beside him, Isha stumbled and cursed, her robe caught on a branch.

"Hold on, I'll get it," he said, his fingers working the hem of her skirt free of the twig. As he pulled away, his hand brushed against hers. It was a tiny gesture, looking like an utter accident, and going unnoticed by the guards. "Oh, sorry," he muttered, looking away.

Isha glanced nervously back at the guards. "Um... that's okay."

There was sudden movement, and the Bengalaas stepped out on a branch a few feet away, glaring at them indignantly. It was just as beautiful as it had been before, though this time it looked downright annoyed, and displayed this by snapping its tail against the branch in a particularly pissed fashion.

"Oh, dear," Isha said, backing away slightly. For, peeping out between its front legs, were two little cubs staring at them with bright eyes.

"I think that's close enough," Zak whispered, pulling away. "We should probably leave it alone…"

One of the guards stood up to full height. He made a sharp grunting noise from deep within his chest. The Bengalaas growled and lowered its head. The guard made the noise again, and this time the other joined in. With another flick of its tail, the cat-like creature scooped up one of its cubs by the scruff of the neck in its jaw and slunk away, the other cub scampering after it.

Zak looked from one Protoss to the other. "What was that?"

_You forget, Terran, that this is our homeworld. We evolved here—we are as much part of this planet as that Bengalaas. What we gave it was a simple warning: we do not mean any harm, but will fight if challenged._

Zak nodded. "Oh. All right."

The other guard leapt into the trees and perched expertly on a thick branch. _I suggest we begin heading back. Sunset will come quickly, and you Terrans are worthless in the dark._

At this, Zak and Isha both rolled their eyes. They both had better than normal vision.

"Do we have to leave right _now?_" Zak complained. "Can't we hang out by the stream for a while or something?"

The guards exchanged glances. _If you so choose, but you must return to your quarters by sunset._

"Oh, fine." Isha stepped back onto the short trail they had blazed, heading towards the small pool.

"Why do you insist on thinking the worst of us?" Isha asked, scowling at the large, graceful Protoss. "For your information I can see just as well in the dark as in the light, and Zak here has machines for eyes."

She stumbled, her belly giving a sharp twinge, to which she let out a small gasp. Zak stopped immediately and turned, grabbing her upper arm. "Isha? You okay?"

Then they were separated—though the Zealots were very gentle with her. "Okay, okay," she heard Zak mutter. "Isha, are you...?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She sat laboriously at the edge of the pool, once again dangling her feet in the water.

Her stomach twinged again, and she winced. "Khas... you two never answered my question."

The warriors exchanged a private wisp of conversation, then one sat down under the same large tree as he had before. The other gave him a look, one that Zak interpreted as "oh sure, make _me_ talk to the humans," then perched on a rock and stared at the two Terrans.

Zak plopped down on the ground next to Isha and asked her again if she was sure she was okay. She waved him off, glaring at the Protoss.

"Well?"

_Physically speaking, humans as a species are significantly weaker than a Protoss. It is a matter of biology. We live longer, run faster, and have stronger senses than your kind. There is no need for you to be offended—it is fact._

"That doesn't give you a right to act all high and mighty, though."

The Protoss shot her a look, telepathically snorted, and turned his back partially towards them, still watching them out the corner of his eye.

"Egotistical little bastards, aren't they?" Zak grinned at Isha.

"Pain in the asses, that's what they are," Isha said savagely. "And I thought Xan'Iir was bad..."

_You would do well to address her by her title, Terran._

"What? She's not here, is she?"

He glared at her, and she glared right back. _It is proper respect—_

"As it is proper _courtesy_ to _not_ act so egotistical. See, that's where your Conclave-whatever Law-thing is wrong. You're so high and mighty... it's your fault all this is happening." Isha was on her feet now, glaring at them. "You think you own everything—even to the point that you would torture and _rape_ an innocent girl and murder as much as you want and not even care because she's just a _Terran..._" She was panting, a hand on her stomach.

_You are nothing, my pet, you deserve no name, you are not even Terran..._

Zak stood up and put a hand on Isha's shoulder. "Isha, calm down, okay?" He shot an icy glare at the Protoss. "And you and your buddy better get your head outta your asses or I'm yanking 'em out. Got it?"

_You are not to touch—_

"Yeah, shut up. I'm done hearin' you boss us around."

_It is time to go,_ the guard said, and they were separated before they knew it, being firmly marched back to the building. Out of breath from the argument, Isha didn't complain and was soon panting... how did her stomach all of a sudden get so heavy? It wasn't like this a minute ago...

She needed help up the stairs and barely managed a good night to Zak before almost collapsing. The guard, worried, picked her up gingerly and placed her in the bed, calling for Tseis.

Isha was asleep before he came, not even bothering to put on a night robe.

The other guard was no quite so gentle.

Zak hit the floor with a great deal of momentum, feeling bruises forming immediately upon impact.

_Follow the rules and this sort of thing will not happen,_ the guard stated matter-of-factly as he strutted out, slamming the door behind him.

"Asshole," Zak grumbled under his breath as he got up and dusted off his knees. He crawled into bed, having nothing better to do, and cursed himself for acting like such a fool. _Yeah, sure, go piss the guards off. That'll make 'em friendlier. Idiot._ He'd have to be more careful next time if he ever wanted to spend time with Isha again.

"G'night, Isha." He hugged his pillow tightly, curling up into a tight ball around it. He wished he had the real thing with him.

He awoke to an ungodly roar.

Everything around him shook uncontrollably. He tumbled out of bed, cursed, and jumped to his feet. Already, he could feel himself switching into high alert. His eyes darted around the room, falling on the window…

And immediately rushed to it, sticking his head out and craning his neck. Above the city, an entire fleet of gleaming, golden ships powered though the sky, the largest of them dwarfing most of the buildings below it.

Finally managing to pull away from the awesome sight, Zak noticed the guard, also gazing steadily skyward. "Hey!" Zak bellowed above the shriek of the engines. "Where are they going?"

The Protoss turned and cocked his head. _To battle._

"Where?"

_The far West, to the Temple of the Gods._

"Huh?"

_The Temple, fool!_

"Why the hell would they go to some temple?"

_The Zerg are there._

"Zerg? Aw, fuck!" Zak pulled his head back inside, bumping the back of his skull as he did so.

Zerg. When he'd finally thought he'd escaped the war, it had followed him here.

He couldn't run.

Isha crouched on the bed, not knowing what to do. There was a horrible thunder across the sky, and she was afraid to get out of bed and look, and besides, she still did not feel very well...

The door flew open, making her jump. "Who—Talidor! What's going on?!"

_Get up, child; we must go._

"Where?" Laboriously Isha got out of bed, cringing as her stomach bumped the edge of it. "What's going on?"

_The Zerg are too close... we must move everything, and wait for the Templar to clear them out. Hurry, Isha!_

"You try hurrying with a two-ton stomach," she muttered, slipping on a new robe. Talidor ushered her out the door, where the guard simply picked her up, ignoring her startled squeak.

"Wait! What about—"

_Your mate is coming; stop fighting! We need to pick up my own family, as well._

Isha fell silent as the roar of the engines thrummed through the building, unconsciously trying to hide in the guard's giant arms.

Zerg. Run. Can't run. No weapons. Can't fight. Exposed.

It was driving him crazy. Zak forced himself to go numb, becoming the weapon, stay calm don't feel stay in control…

He ran alongside the guard, quickly catching up with the others. He saw the children run up to their father.

_Father! What's happening? I'm scared!_

Talidor hugged them all in one sweeping embrace. _Hush. We are going somewhere safe._

Zak glared up at the sky, frowning. He was exposed. He had no weapons.

"Isha, you okay?" he asked without turning his gaze.

"I think so," came a weak reply.

His eyes scanned the ships, then focused on the distant horizon. Zerg—he knew they were there.

"Good."

They ran somewhere--Isha couldn't really tell where they were going, but it must have been some sort of dock because they boarded a Shuttle, which began to rise--along with several dozen others, all carrying civilians. Scouts escorted them swiftly and for so long she lost track of time, and dozed off in the guard's arms--he had either forgotten she was there, or didn't care.

"Isha, wake up. We're here."

She squinted an eye open. "Huh? Where?"

Zak's hand fluttered close to her forehead, but he remembered the rules and pulled it away. "Don't know… Away from the Zerg."

_Se'Ijha,_ Talidor informed them. _The province we just came from is called Antioch._

"Mm," Zak grunted, absently nodding. He really didn't care what the place was called, so long as it was far away from the Zerg. Then again, any planet that the swarm appeared on was more or less screwed…

They were herded out of the shuttles along with the civilian Protoss, gathering in a courtyard and then guided away by pairs of soldiers. It was odd—the Protoss, unlike humans, did not huddle together in a great mass. Instead, they kept a bit of elbowroom between themselves; only a few stood close, and Zak assumed they were family members.

One lone Protoss moved against the crowd. He was smaller than the others. Thinner. Younger. Definitely older than Talidor's children, but not quite an adult. His face was smooth, with only a few scattered scales around his sun-yellow eyes. The cords growing out of his skull were left untied and flopped around his bony shoulders as he weaved through the crowd.

_Ah, excuse me, sir?_ He wandered over to one of the warriors. _Do you have any news of my pa—I mean High Templars Zhadak and Xan'Iir?_

The soldier furrowed his scaly brow. _I am uncertain as to the whereabouts of High Templar Zhadak. The Executrix, however, is currently heading the defense of Antioch—_

_Executrix?_

_Yes. She has only recently received a promotion…_

_I didn't know Mother had gotten… Ah, I must go! Thank you!_

Isha shifted in the warriors arms. "Um... you can put me down now..."

_Unadvisable,_ he replied.

"Why must everyone carry me?!"

_You cannot move very fast, and undue stress could harm your child,_ Talidor answered.

"Yeah, yeah..."

Isha idly kicked her legs, much to the annoyance of the guard. He gave her a stern glance, and she stuck her tongue out. _Don't like it? Put me down._

He snorted and pretended to ignore it as they were led slowly through the courtyard—almost all Protoss paused to turn and stare at the Terrans, and children gaped openly. Isha glanced at the lone Protoss. "Who's that? Why is he all alone?"

_The son of Executrix Xan'Iir._

"Oh! He doesn't look like... Executrix?"

Talidor nodded. _She received a promotion recently. Her warriors are fighting alongside the Praetor, I believe._

Zak absently scratched behind his ear, his mind loosening up out of weapon mode. "Xan'Iir… That's the one that you don't get along with, right?" He glanced at Isha. Of course, he knew full well who Xan'Iir was, but they didn't know he knew.

_Talidor!_ The young Protoss with the sun-eyes sprinted towards them, waving with one lanky arm. _You came from Antioch! Everyone's all right? And—oh! Terrans! Are those the ones Mo—erm, the Executrix—located?_

Talidor sighed. _Yes, Nag'Jihn, they are the ones. And yes, everyone is safe._

_Ah, good. When I heard Antioch was under attack, I sneaked out of training and—_

_Again? Nag'Jihn…_

_Oh, don't worry! Teacher's so old, he probably didn't notice._ Nag'Jihn shrugged it off, then turned his excited face towards the pair of humans. _You know, they aren't anywhere near as ugly as Mother made them sound…_

Zak crossed his arms. "Ugly?"

The young Protoss imitated the gesture. _You're the male, right? The psychic? I've heard you're quite the warrior._

"Huh?"

_And this one! The half-blood! Isha! Truly amazing!_ He lit up with curiosity and fascination. _I'd say you're quite the opposite of what I'd heard. I was expecting some sort of—_

_Nag'Jihn!_

He flinched and grinned sheepishly at Talidor. _Sorry._

_Go back to your training, Nag'Jihn._

_Aw, come on, Talidor! It's meditation! We just sit there and—_

_Go!_

Nag'Jihn rolled his eyes and slunk away dejectedly. _Can't believe I'm being bossed around by a Khalai…_

_I heard that! Training! Now!_

_Gods, I'm going!_

"Aww, he's so cute," Isha said, giggling.

_Please, don't encourage him..._

"Yes, please don't," Zak agreed.

"But c'mon, he's so adorable! I can't believe he's actually Xan'Iir's son!"

_He's like his father, not his mother, though I don't know where he got that impudent streak--_ Talidor sighed and shook his head.

_I'll show him,_ Buro muttered. _He insulted the Khalai; I'll beat him next time I see him..._

_Buro, hush,_ Sa'avi scolded, leading her children away with the rest of the civilians. Talidor and the guards led Zak and Isha elsewhere, to a set of rooms much like the ones from before, minus half the equipment.

_Can I trust the two of you to stay out of trouble?_

Zak glanced warily at the guards. "If it keeps your goons off me…"

Talidor gave a quick nod. _Fair enough. I need to attend to my family, now. I will return in the morning._

One of the guards—he had a feeling it was the crabbier one—"escorted" Zak into his new accommodations. Zak gave him the customary insult as he stood and dusted himself off. "Okay, seriously," he complained, "do you have to _throw_ me all the time?"

_No._

"Then why do—"

_It is amusing._

Zak glared at him and snorted. "Figures." He briefly explored the small room, quickly losing interest. He'd much rather be with Isha. There was always something new about her. He could probably stay with her forever and never get bored…

_You wouldn't get bored. You'd get ugly. Again._

He briefly imagined slamming his conscience against the wall, then turned to the guard. "Hey, do you think I could talk to Isha for awhile?"

_Unadvisable._

"I was just gonna talk…"

_Highly unlikely._

Zak rolled his eyes. "Please?"

The warrior studied him for a long time. _You have failed to follow the rules. You are not permitted to see her._

"Hey, you guys started it…"

_An incorrect assumption._

"Oh, come _on!_ Two minutes! That's all I ask!"

The guard glared at him, snorted, and stomped. _Very well, but ONLY if you behave._

"THANK you!"

Isha was busily exploring her own room—unlike Zak, she rather enjoyed the accommodations. Anything was better then whatever her Master had in store for her, so this was, in all truth, a kingly (or queenly) suite for her. The guard waited patiently, watching her with keen green eyes.

"I never got your name," she told him, softly, as she gazed out the window.

The guard hesitated, and she glanced back at him with a smile on her face. "Come on now. You're assigned to me, aren't you?"

_I am._

"I might as well know your name."

He hesitated again, then replied, _Very well. My name is Cerian._

"Nice to meet you, Cerian," Isha smiled at him again.

"Ow! Listen, you..."

Isha paused her eyes lighting up. "Zak...?"

"Okay, okay, okay! You're the boss! Lemme down!" Zak kicked wildly to escape the warrior's grip, but to no avail. He could have gotten out of it if he wanted to, but...

_This is quite fun,_ the guard said with a grin. _Cerian, you should try it._

The other rolled his green eyes. _Tseis..._

Isha stalked up to him, folded her arms over her swollen stomach, and glared up at the Zealot's brightly glowing eyes. "If you don't put him down and stop acting like a child, I am going to tell Talidor. You're being insufferable and rude."

Tseis raised an eyebrow. _Yes. Very well._ He let Zak drop. _Forgive me,_ he said with a small bow.

"Pft, yeah, thanks, I—hey!" Zak glared at the Zealot's hand, still firmly gripping his shoulder.

_You can speak to her from here._

Zak mumbled an insult in reply, then grinned sheepishly at Isha. "So, uh... did you... today? Have fun, I guess?"

Isha grinned. "Oh, yes, I had lots of fun, being jarred out of bed and carried along Khas-knows where... They like to carry us, don't they?"

Zak glared back at his guard and muttered something else along the lines of "asshole." The Zealot squeezed his shoulder, hard enough to make the bones creak, and he jumped. "Maybe we feel like their equivalent of dogs to them."

"Maybe."

"Maybe they're just—ow!"

_Your two minutes are up,_ the guard said coolly.

"Already?" Zak gave Tseis another look.

_Yes, already. Come._

Zak squeaked as he was dragged away. He made the usual show of "you suck and I hate you" upon being cast into his quarters, and perched cross-legged and cross-armed at the edge of his bed until the guard turned away. Carefully and softly, his mind sought out Isha, catious not to draw Tseis's attention.

_Hey, Isha? It's me. I need to tell you something._

He could imagine her surprised leap. _Zak?!_

_Keep it quiet; I don't want our buddies eavesdropping. Listen. You don't have to block anymore. I remember. Everything. I remember you, Isha. But keep it a secret, okay?_

Shock. Utter shock.

_Z-Z-Zak? Y-You—_

_Everything._

Isha broke the contact and slumped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, open-mouthed.

He remembered. He remembered her.

_Oh Zak...I love you..._

Zak grabbed again for the link. _I love you too, Isha. But, please. Keep it a secret, okay? They'll think I'm getting ugly again and..._

_You _are_ getting ugly,_ his conscience retorted.

"Shut up," he growled, clenching his fists. He took a breath, then reached out mentally again. _Just don't tell. I don't want to forget. Please._

He could imagine her warm body pressing up against his, and he could almost feel their lips touching. So close... He tried projecting the feelings to Isha, letting her know that yes, he loved her. More than anything.

_Keep it a secret,_ he telepathically whispered, closing his eyes as he imagined himself physically doing so in her ear.

Isha stared at nothing, her mouth cottony-dry. What if he _did_ get ugly? It would be her fault, since she hadn't told... she should tell them. She should, she should, it would help...

She felt tears on her cheeks and buried her face in the pillow. Zak, her Zak...

_...Child? Are you all right?_ Talidor's voice made her jump; he was right outside the door.

"Talidor," she whispered. "Talidor, I..."

She couldn't.

"Yes. Everything's fine."

Talidor cocked his head in suspicion. _Are you sure? If anything is truly bothering you, feel free to tell me._

No response. He shook his head. _Alas, stubborn as ever... I will speak with you tomorrow, then._

Zak waited patiently for the healer to be on his way, then reached out for Isha again. _Don't cry about it. I'm happy I remember. It's okay, you can talk to me about anything, now. No rules. Just keep it quiet._

Isha figeted with the coverlet. She had so many questions... _When did you remember? Do you still feel? I mean... you won't... do that again, will you?_ She remembered him grinning, clasping her body in his.

_"Mine, Isha, all mine..._

_It came back about a week ago; I remembered little things before that and..._ He cringed as he saw the memory resurface. _No, of course I won't get like that again. It was just the drug; my system couldn't handle it. Don't worry; I'm not a Ghost anymore._

His conscience seized the opportunity. _You're lying. You're lying to her. Do you think she'll buy it? You can't hide it forever; you are what you are. Ghost. Weapon. A defective unit._

_Zak... don't ever, ever take that drug._ Her "voice" turned stern. _That was stupid._

_Yeah, I know. Trust me, I don't plan on it..._ He sighed, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.

_Hey... how's the baby doing?_

Isha beamed without realizing it, her hand on her stomach. _He's started to kick, the rascal. I wish you could feel him... what will we name him?_

_I... I haven't really thought about it..._

Zak continued to stare at the ceiling. He could almost see him clearly—his son, the boy with the black hair and hazel eyes... A fantasy, yes, but...

_Well, what did you have in mind? You're doing most of the work here, so..._

Isha hesitated, thinking. _Something normal. Something easy. Something...human._

_Something normal, huh?_ Zak closed his eyes, thinking quietly. Joseph? Nah, too common. James? Oh sure, name him after your captain. Robert? Oh, yeah, Bob. Really creative, there...

_How about... David._

_David._ She rolled it around in her mind, then tried it out loud. "David. Son of Isha and Zak."

_Wait... don't Terrans usually have last names? What should he be? David what?_

_About that. Um..._ Zak scratched his head. _Well, since we're kind of together and... he's... He's supposed to have _my_ last name. That's how it works, but I don't... I've had aliases before, but I can't remember what it was. I've never had to use it._

_Try. Please try._

Zak suddenly felt another mind brush against his—his Guard's. _I have to go, Isha. Bye_.

_Bye._

_Child?_

"I'm trying to figure out a name for my son," she called through the door. "Sorry if I bothered you."

There was a pause, then Cerian chuckled. _Have you found it out?_

"Yeah. David. David something." She grinned despite herself. "I wanted something _human,_ you know?"

_David, hrm?_ Cerian paused. _I suppose that is all right..._

"Glad you approve."

Nag'Jihn tiptoed out of the training hall and into the courtyard. Teacher had caught him when he got back and forced him to go sit and meditate by himself while the others got to spar...

He looked up at one of the buildings, wondering if that's where they were keeping the Terrans. He was quite curious about them--far more interested in them than meditation, anyway.

He climbed silently up the steps, turned the corner...

And ran straight into Cerian.

_Oops._

Cerian paused, surprised, then folded his arms across his chest and glared down at the young Templar. _Nag'Jihn. You are supposed to be in training._

_Uh... I know, I just... um... got lost?_

Silence. Cerian's glare intensified.

_Erm... I'll just..._

Isha peeked out the door. "Oh! It's you!" She smiled at Cerian then walked over, pulling on Nag'Jihn's arm. "Come and visit. Please?"

_He is supposed to be—_

"Aw, he can visit once. Come in, Nag'Jihn!"

Nag'Jihn grinned up at the guard, pleased that his escape had won approval. He bowed as he entered, then sat down on the floor. _Thank you, Miss Isha. It's very nice to meet you. Um... Hey, are you really with child? Mother mentioned that you were, and I was wondering when it would be born. Oh, you met Dark Templar, too, right? I'd like to hear about them! Both of my parents have fought them before, but they never tell me anything!_

Isha laughed delightedly. "Of course I'm with child; that's what the belly's for!" She patted her stomach fondly. "My son."

_A male?_

"Yep. He'll be born in two months. As for the Dark Templar, they really don't need to be fought. They're just as honorable as any other Protoss; more honorable in some cases."

Nag'Jihn's sun-yellow eyes grew wide with a combination of shock and admiration. _They what?! Wow, I can't believe you'd say something like that out loud! That's brave, Miss Isha! Really brave!_

"Why?" Isha shrugged, leaning back. "It's true. Zeratul—their Prelate—may not be very personable, but he's the most honorable guy I know. And there are many, many other Dark Templar that I met, and they—well, the ones under Zeratul—are all the same in one regard: they would never, ever betray a friend."

The Dark Templar under her Master, however... she flinched, pushing the thought out of her head.

Nag'Jihn eyed the Terran woman with curiosity, wondering where the sudden painful thought had come from. But, as soon as it came, it was gone.

_It's strange, but it makes sense,_ he mused. _The Dark Templar--they betrayed Aiur and all, but they still trust in each other... Yes, I think I get it; they are still First Born—oh! Ah, Teacher will punish me again if he catches such thoughts!_ He slapped his palm against his head.

"So what?" Isha smiled again and casually brushed Nag'Jihn's tunic straight. "At least they're your _own_ thoughts instead of what they _tell_ you to think. If you fear being beaten, don't think them out loud, but still think them. They're _yours._ No one can tell you what to think."

Nag'Jihn drew away and re-scruffled his tunic. _Oh, he doesn't beat me or anything. Just makes me sit by myself and meditate. Then he yells at me for falling asleep which I don't get because it's the same thing..._

Isha giggled slightly, hand over her mouth. "Well, I don't know the difference, especially since I'm not Protoss. But..." She tugged his tunic again. "I wouldn't know. Master used to—" she stopped and shook her head.

Nag'Jihn made a face, then proceeded to yank at his tunic until it was in significant disarray. _You're worse than Mother... Wait, who is this Master? Your thoughts have drifted to him twice now..._

Pain, pain...

Isha shuddered. "You don't..."

_"Don't Master I'll be good! I'll be good! Please!"_

"You don't want to know."

Nag'Jihn blinked, shuddered, and looked away. _Oh. Sorry. Maybe I should go..._

"No, don't go, it's okay." Isha smiled at him. "Don't worry about it. So, tell me about yourself."

Nag'Jihn brightened. _Oh! Well, I'm the best at sparring in my class! I can... um, okay not the best, but I'm pretty good..._ He sulked, then brightened again. _But I'm excellent with a long staff! It's my favorite! It's just for practice, but I'm really good! Here, I'll show you!_ He got up, ran outside, and came bolting back in a few minutes later, accidentally hitting Cerian in the face with a newly-acquired tree branch. _Oh. Sorry._ He shrugged, then grinned excitedly at Isha.

_It's not a real staff, but it's the proper weight and everything. Here, watch!_

Settling into his fighting stance, Nag'Jihn closed his eyes. _Okay._ When he opened them again, he lashed out at invisible enemies, using movements and techniques he'd rehearsed to near perfection. It was a spectacular performance...

...Until the end of the branch caught on to something, sprang back, hit him on top of the head, tripped him, and landed innocently on his lap, leaving him to wonder just exactly what had happened.

_Looks like you still have some work to do,_ Cerian stated.

"Oh, hush you," Isha scolded, frowning at him. "I bet you were worse when you were his age."

_Unlikely._

"I said _hush._"

He bowed and fell silent. Isha walked over to Nag'Jihn and crouched slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Try again?"

_Okay._ The young Protoss stood up, rubbing the bump on his head with embarrassment. _I'll try._

He flipped the stick around in his hands, settled into his stance, and closed his eyes for focus. _I can do this._

And he did. Flawlessly. Even Cerian was impressed.

Isha applauded. "Nice, Nag'Jihn! Very nice!"

_Thanks..._

_Nag'Jihn!_ A much older Protoss stood there, arms folded. _I should have known..._

Nag'Jihn blinked, straining himself to look innocent. _Oh, hello, Teacher..._

"He's fine." Isha glared at him. "Leave him alone."

The elder Protoss stared at Isha. _A Terran?_ He shook his head. _Nag'Jihn, you had best explain yourself._

_I was just visiting Isha..._

_What, the Terran?_

_Yes, she just got here, and..._

_Just got here? So why have you been skipping out of your lessons for months?_

_What, me? Teacher, I don't always—_

_Enough. Come. You're going to make up all the time you lost._

Nag'Jihn telepathically gulped, shrugged at Isha, and began to follow his teacher. _No escaping from this one, it looks like..._

Isha rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I hope my son won't be like that..."

_Hey, I heard that!_

"I hope so. Cerian, can I please see Zak?"

Cerian gazed at her questioningly. _You just saw him..._

She rolled her eyes again. "Oh, come on. We said two sentences. Tseis is being mean, you know that."

_It is true he can be..._

"Cerian, please? What if you were banned from seeing _your_ mate?"

That hit home. He sighed. _Very well._

Name, name, what was his name, he had a last name, what was it?

Zak looked up to see Isha come in. "Hey," he said with a small, lopsided grin. "I thought I had it, but I lost it again."

_Had what?_ Tseis folded his arms.

Zak rolled his eyes. "A burrito."

_What is this... 'burrito?'_

"Nothing."

Equally confused, Isha sat on the other side of the bed. "A... what? Never mind. Well, can you remember the first letter of it?"

"A C... or a K... I dunno, I think it made that kind of sound..." He flopped down on the bed. "I've only ever heard it said a few times, and the only times I would've seen it on paper was when I was too little to read yet..."

Isha paused, thinking. "Maybe... can you remember the sound, not the actual word, of the whole name?"

Zak closed his eyes and licked his lips. "K-k-k... Ka... Car... Cunningham? No... Carlton? Carlson? Ah... I don't..." He put a hand on his forehead, massaging his temples. "I don't..."

_"Mrs. Caldwell," the "doctor" said, rummaging in his desk and pulling out a stack of papers, "I've never thought I'd have to use these, but..." The man sighed. "There's a program for 'gifted' children. I think it might be in Zachary's best interest if you signed him up."_

_A frail woman with light hair and dark eyes scanned the papers. A boy no older than five played with a plastic spaceship at her feet. She looked down at him and bit her knuckle. "You're sure he's a... a..."_

_"There is no question about it, Mrs. Caldwell. All tests are positive." The man leaned forward in his desk, giving the boy in the corner a nervous glance before continuing. "Your boy's a genuine telepath."_

"Caldwell," he whispered. "Caldwell."

Isha smiled. "David. David Caldwell."

_Isha Caldwell._

"I have a name."

Zak sat up. "I have a name! I have a goddam _name!_"

He was on his feet. "Zachary Caldwell! I have a name! I'm Zachary Caldwell!" He was laughing, crying, he had a name—a name!

He wasn't a number anymore!

He wanted to just grab Isha, kiss her, maybe kiss the guards—hell, he'd kiss a Zerg right now! He remembered! He was Zachary Caldwell!

Isha got up, beaming. It was so wonderful to see him happy! "Oh, Zak, it's great!"

He was practically dancing on the spot. Isha smiled.

Then passed out. She had forgotten to take her drug.

"Isha!" Zak dropped to his knees, catching her in the nick of time. "Isha, are you? Shit!" His head snapped up to look at the guards. "Get the drug! Quick!"

The guards glanced at each other, neither of them moving.

"She needs help! I'm not fooling around, here!"

Cerian stepped forward. _Terran, calm down. We will help her soon enough._

Zak's face twisted into a snarl. "She needs help _now!_"

_Terran... Your thoughts have been and are currently being monitored and recorded. We are sorry, but it is apparent that the treatments have failed._

"What? I... no..."

_The healers warned us, Terran. You have indeed relapsed. Repeatedly. It is only through the so-called "Ghost" part of your consciousness that you haven't done so outwardly._

Zak shook his head, hugging Isha's unconscious form tighter. "That's a lie! I'm not a Ghost anymore! I won't get ugly! I can't!"

_I told you,_ his conscience, now revealed as the weapon, whispered, _I told you you'd get ugly if you got attached._

Zak could only stare in shock as the guards carried Isha away.

If he wasn't a Ghost, then he was a monster.

Zachary Caldwell was dead.


	9. Chapter 9

The days passed. Isha became rather listless, not exactly caring... well, about anything. She could never see Zak again. Ever. That was the extent of her life. It didn't matter. She didn't even smile when the children came to see her, and soon she would avoid them entirely. Talidor tried desperately to wake her out of the stupor, but she would simply ignore him. Nothing mattered. Nothing mattered...

Zachary Caldwell was dead.

Not dead, really. More or less just withdrawn. He'd accepted the fact that he was crazy and had separated himself from basically everything.

Number 27 didn't mind. He was better at taking care of things, anyway. "Zak" got into the best physical shape of his life, and would spend hours probing the full extent of his psychic ability. The dampener was a setback, yes, but he still had a lot to work with.

And Zachary Caldwell continued to mope. It was an easy matter to shut him out.

And then one morning he awoke to wailing sirens.

_Come child, quickly!_

Isha just looked up at him dully, her eyes wandering. She didn't care for the sirens. "What?"

_Now!_ she was dragged out of her bed, a large Protoss hand wrapped around her arm. Talidor's thoughts were panicked and horrified. _We must go!_

"Go where?"

_Out of here!_

It was hard for her to walk, much less run. Her whole body ached. Without hesitation Cerian plucked from the ground, his long strides carrying them both to a waiting Shuttle.

Operative 27 didn't complain as he was dragged onto a Shuttle. He only stared off into the distance, feeling the Zerg pulse coming closer and harder than ever before.

He wished he had a weapon.

_I should just stay here so they can kill me._

"Shut up," he muttered aloud, rubbing his forehead. "I killed you already."

Staring at the floor, he noticed feet. Human feet. Well, human-ish.

Something inside him leapt. _ISHA! It's her! She's all right! She's—_

"Shut UP. You aren't getting ugly. Besides, there's a guard over there who will be more than happy to kill me if I try."

"Zak...?"

_Hush, child,_ Cerian said firmly, turning so that his body was in between them.

"B-But—"

_No._

She fell silent, trying not to cry. Zak, Zak, she wanted Zak, she wanted to be in his arms and kiss him and...

_I am sorry, little one. But you cannot._

"I know." The voice was choked and sorrowful.

They landed.

He heard her call his name. Her thoughts were clear as words to him.

_Zak? Zak! God, Zak, please, I want to be with him so bad, just let him hold me and..._

"Shut it out, damn it."

They stepped outside...

And it was cold as hell. Dark. They were in the middle of a black desert.

"Where... where is this?"

_"This,"_ Talidor said, his thoughts subdued, _"is Shakuras. Home of the Dark Templar."_

They moved forward, quietly and fearfully. The children clung to their mother's skirts, and Talidor shifted from foot to foot.

Then, they appeared.

The Dark Templar came out of nowhere.

"Zak" tensed up. Part of him still didn't trust them.

A small group stepped forward to meet the cloaked figures. Two he recognized--Zeratul and Xan'Iir. The third had a face like a duck.

They bowed, then began to speak. Privately.

It annoyed Zak to no end that he couldn't hear the conversation.

Isha squeaked an eye open. Dark Templar. She shivered and held onto Cerian's armor. One of them looked her way--Zeratul?

_Be not afraid, young one. These are not Ulrezaj's minions._

She nodded once, jerkily. Zeratul turned back to the others, gesturing once towards her, then Zak.

Zak...

They began to walk.

"So... why are we here?"

The guard shuddered, then hung his head. _Oh,_ Zak thought, picking up was was going on in the soldier's mind, _that sucks._

"I'm sorry."

The guard looked up at him and nodded.

They walked for at least an hour. Zak wondered how well Isha was faring, what with the extra load and all...

_Don't think about her_, he told himself.

It was very dark. Cold, too. Was the temperature bothering her?

_Stop it._

_Fine._

They arrived in what appeared to be a city, but Zak's mechanical eyes could only compensate so much for the lack of light. The buildings, from what he could tell, were made of black stone and silvery metal.

Isha was breathing heavily, sweat cold on her flesh. Goosebumps were everywhere, and she was shivering; if the guards were not so subdued by their surroundings and if Talidor was not trying to keep his family calm, someone would have noticed.

Or—

_Child?_

She glanced up at a Dark Templar's blazing eyes; she—Isha knew that it was female for some reason—had fallen back to walk beside her (the guard immediately relocated to Isha's other side).

Isha allowed a small smile. "'M fine."

_You are near birth._

"I... I am? Tali...Talidor didn't... say that..."

The Dark Templar glanced at Talidor as they paused near a building. _Here,_ Zeratul announced. _The civilian families and the Terrans shall reside here._

Isha couldn't do the steps. They were too high.

There was a short pause, then the Dark Templar plucked her from the ground. She sighed in relief as the weight was taken off her feet, and effortlessly she was carried up the steps. She could tell Zak was close. Very close.

She was put on a bed. So tired she couldn't think straight, she fell asleep.

Uncomfortable.

That about summed up life.

The depressed moods of the Protoss around him, the planet they were on, the fact that Isha was so damn close and he couldn't see her because he knew he couldn't handle it without going nuts again...

Yeah. Everything was pretty damn uncomfortable.

The wisp of thought he caught next topped the list.

Isha was near birth.

It was just a couple of Protoss talking outside, but he heard it... and he could feel himself breaking down.

Zak stood up, swore, and bolted past the guards. Since he wasn't heading in Isha's direction, they didn't stop him. He waited until he was far away from everyone before finally letting loose.

There was lots of screaming. And swearing. And throwing things.

And then it stopped. He was on his knees, panting, unable to believe it.

It had _stopped._

"I'm okay," he told himself as he got back up. "I'm okay."

In moments, he was back in his designated bunk, drifting off to sleep.

He understood what he had to do from now on.

Isha's eyes snapped open.

Her breathing was harsher then it had been on the march. Her stomach felt like it was going to burst.

She let out a small whimper, reaching down to touch her belly. She could feel her pulse through it, could feel every movement of her baby.

Since Protoss and human anatomy were so different, they had never told her that she would break water. So when her water broke, she panicked and thrashed, trying to see what was wrong.

Then came the pain.

Her stomach seemed to _squeeze,_ rippling once in a massive contraction. She screamed.

The Protoss came running.

Zak woke up to the sound of her screaming.

He bolted out of bed, and ran straight into the guards. Beyond their giant arms he saw Protoss rushing into Isha's room.

"Let me go," he said with significant force.

_You cannot go to her._

"I need to."

_You do not._

He felt the monster stirring inside him, his thoughts becoming more and more frantic. "It's my kid."

_You are relapsing._

"I know." His cold, steely eyes didn't blink. "I can control it. I've been practicing. If you're so worried, then come with me."

The guards exchanged looks, then nodded. They walked him over—much slower than he would have liked—and let him stand by her.

He could feel her pain.

His hand grasped hers. "Hey," he said softly.

"Zak—"

"It's okay."

_It's not! It hurts it hurts it hurts—_

But then, beyond her pain, she heard a sound. No, not a sound—something she recognized, though—it was in her mind...

_Life that is within me  
Come forth and breathe  
Of my own flesh and lover's blood  
Great miracle, blessing of the gods  
Come forth and see  
Little one, my beloved  
We wait for you  
Come forth and live..._

Zak stared down at her, stunned. Residue of the wave of pure thought, emotion, and imagery still echoed within his mind. "That was amazing. Did you do that?"

Isha cried out, and Zak felt a stab of pain... somewhere. It was obvious Isha hurt like hell, but he lacked the proper anatomy to fully participate.

"Come on, you're tough. You can do this."

Protoss continued to bustle about, and many of them were hovering around an area that made Zak especially uncomfortable. He squeezed Isha's hand, resisting the urge to go pound the living crap out of the alien midwives.

Another spasm. Isha cried out.

"Shh, you're okay. You've been through harder. Stay with me, okay?"

Talidor glanced down at Isha's grimacing face, then looked to Zak. _We do possess substances that will quiet the pain..._

Zak nodded. "Isha? They've got stuff that'll numb it so you don't hurt so much. You interested?"

Isha didn't even hear him, lost in her own little world. _Life that is within me..._

Contractions. More contractions. Horrible pain. She could hear Zak snapping angrily to the Protoss, and Talidor was busily taking her... whatever it was with some sort of bizarre instrument.

"Isha? Isha, come on, tell me. They won't give it to you without consent."

For some reason she heard that. Her eyes opened—she wasn't aware they had been closed. "Wh...what?"

"They can numb the pain, Isha."

Slowly—ever so slowly—she shook her head. "No."

"No?"

"I want to feel him. I want to feel my son."

Zak opened his mouth for a moment, then gently smiled. "You're tough, kid," he whispered fondly.

"Don't call me 'kid,'" Isha retorted weakly through strained breaths.

Zak grinned again and squeezed her hand reassuringly, trying not to let it show that he was scared as hell.

It went on forever. Pain, and murmuring telepathic voices, and that song through her mind and Zak's hand squeezing hers, oh don't let Zak go away, don't let them take Zak away my baby my baby my baby...

And then it was over. Isha collapsed, her muscles giving out on her, and closed her eyes, panting. Someone was changing the sheets. And then—above it all—came the piping wail of a newborn's cry.

Her eyes opened. "Zak...?"

He was staring at something, a strange look on his face.

Protoss hands wiped her down, firm yet gentle, and Talidor looked at her, smiling slightly.

"Wha...?"

"Hey, don't touch him—"

_He must be washed,_ said an old, deep voice that she realized was Zeratul's. Zak subsided.

"Where is he?" Isha whispered. "Where is my baby?"

_Here,_ murmured another voice, and something was pressed into her arms.

And Isha stared into the most beautiful hazel eyes she had ever seen.

Rolled-up sheets bathed in blood were being carried away. Zak had already stressed out enough over the blood, but Talidor had insisted it was normal.

Besides, he didn't notice them. His attention was instead focused on the pink ball of flesh that had somehow emerged from between Isha's legs. Squirming, wrinkled, and covered in even more blood, it was...

Beautiful. He protested as they cleaned the baby off, then could only stare, transfixed, as the little wailing ball with a wisp of thin, black hair was transferred to Isha's arms.

His eyes, previously squinted shut, opened in his mother's arms.

Zak gulped back a sudden lump in his throat as his face grew hot. "He's... Isha, he's beautiful, and... he's..." He reached out with a shaking hand and touched the newborn's forehead.

"Those... those are my eyes..."

He shifted, letting Isha's head rest on his arm. Too stunned to smile or cry—both of which he was extremely close to—he could only stare at the two most beautiful faces in the universe.

"This is how I imagined him," he whispered.

"Imagined?" Isha smiled slightly, tiredly. "You've imagined him?" She stroked the child's cheek, then kissed his forehead. "Baby David," she murmured. "My baby."

_A strong child,_ Zeratul added, coming around the side of the bed to gaze at them. Zak shifted protectively.

"Oh, stop it," she told him, then smiled at the Dark Templar Prelate. "You already said that."

He chuckled. _Ah, but not as it was being born._

"He," Zak muttered, and Zeratul inclined his head.

"So this is your 'I told you so,'" Isha said. Zeratul said nothing to this, but his eyes narrowed slightly in a Protoss smile. Isha giggled quietly.

Isha closed her eyes and nestled against Zak's arm, kissing his cheek. "Don't go away," she whispered.

"Don't worry, I won't." Zak wrapped his arm around her shoulders, shifting again to support her weight. "The two of you rest, now. You've both been through a lot today."

He touched David's round, soft cheek, still having trouble believing he was his son. "That includes you, squirt. Good night, David." He leaned in a bit and kissed the baby's forehead. The newborn nestled into Isha's chest, his eyes already shut tight. Isha was soon to follow, and her steady breathing was a welcome changed from her labored gasps from before.

Zak's insides swelled with compassion and just a little bit of pride. However, behind it all was something darker that wouldn't go away.

_Can I take care of both of them?_ His warm smile temporarily flickered. He'd tried to protect and care for Isha, and had failed miserably. Now, he had to be a father for little David. It seemed impossible.

Zeratul cocked his head, picking up Zak's troubled thoughts. _You fear the challenge is too great for you,_ the old Protoss said privately.

_Scared as hell,_ Zak mentally replied.

Zeratul bowed his head in a slow nod, paused for a moment, then stepped forward. _May I see him?_

Zak tensed. _I'd prefer it if you didn't._

_I will not harm him._ Zeratul gave Zak a reassuring glance (one that Zak did not return), then lightly touched the baby's head with his long, bony fingers.

_David, child of Shakuras._ The Dark Templar's thoughts seemed to carry power within them. _Grow strong, seek wisdom, and live with honor. Let the blood of the First Born be your strength, and the spirits of your ancestors be your guidance._ He withdrew his hand and bowed slightly to Zak and the sleeping Isha. _Raise him well._

With that he left, shooing the guards out on the way. This gave the Zak the opportunity to finally relax, and his eyelids began to grow heavy. As he nodded off, a wisp of thought gently breezed through his mind.

_Warm. Comfort. Happy._

David was happy.

Isha awoke to a crying David. He was pawing at her skin, trying to get past the robe that covered her to her breast. Sleepily she shifted to push the cloth out of the way, and immediately the baby attached himself to her nipple, suckling greedily.

Zak was next to her, allowing her head on his arm, and she winced. That had to hurt by now...

"Morning, David," she murmured, kissing the baby, then gently nudged Zak. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

"Mm," Zak groaned lazily, turning slightly, his free arm flopping over and unconsciously enveloping both Isha and David.

"_Zaa_-aak!"

"Whuh?" He forced his eyes open, succeeding only partially. An idiotic grin tugged at his lips. "G'morning," he mumbled, kissing Isha lightly. Damn, it felt good...

David gurgled.

"Morning to you, too," Zak said fondly, now beginning to awaken. He gently stroked the back of David's head. "Enjoying your breakfast?"

David made a small sound but ignored him other then that, focusing directly on her breast.

"I've gotta say," Isha muttered, "out of all the things he could have done, grabbing my boob is something I didn't expect..."

Zak laughed and stretched. "Still a lot to learn, eh?"

She poked him. "Less then you, you creep."

Talidor bustled in, carrying a small try full of food. He looked tired and haggard. _Good morning… Isha, how is your newborn?_

"Fine, thank you."

He placed the tray on the side board and leaned over holding an instrument, checking the baby's vitals. _Everything seems to be fine…_

"What, didn't believe me?" Isha teased. Talidor made something that looked like a smile, then turned away to gaze at a screen. _My children are quite eager to see your son... if you have no reservations...?_

"Of course not. You don't either, do you Zak?"

Zak sighed. "Yeah, whatever. Agh, 'scuse me, Isha..." He stood up and stretched, his limbs scolding him for staying in such a position for so long.

_I'll tell them they can see you, then._ Talidor began to leave, then paused. _Could you come with me for a moment, please?_ he asked Zak. _There are a few matters I wish to speak with you about._

"Now?" Zak looked to his family, reluctant to leave them.

_It will only be a moment._

With a sigh and scratch of his head, Zak followed.

Isha watched him leave nervously. They wouldn't take him away, would they...?

She regarded her nails. They were long, sharp claws as usual; she'd have to cut them down. She didn't want to hurt David...

_Isha!_ G'eshi shot in like a bullet and leapt onto the bed. David whimpered, shifting in her arms, and immediately Isha encircled him protectively. "G'eshi, hush!"

_G'eshi,_ Sa'avi said sharply at the same time as she entered with the other two, and they shared a small smile. The little girl ducked her head in an embarrassed blush and continued in a quieter tone, _Is that your baby?_

_Of course silly, you don't see any other babies around here do you?_ Temla said, shaking her head. Buro was silent, leaning on the edge of the bed to get a good look at the newborn. _He is really small,_ he said, finally.

_You were smaller upon birth,_ his mother murmured, and he looked up at her, startled. _I was?_

_Indeed. Premature._

Isha giggled softly.

_Why is it holding onto your mammary gland?_ Temla asked practically.

"That's how he feeds. He's getting milk."

_Like Bengalaas,_ G'eshi piped up. Buro rolled his eyes.

_You were right,_ he whispered to Isha. _The Dark Templar are... just like us._

_First off, I must say that I am surprised that you have been so successful in controlling yourself, especially during the birthing._

Zak nodded, remaining silent.

_Secondly, I need to address certain... complications that may arise as David ages._

Zak's fists clenched. "Complications?"

_You know he is already dependent on the _aisine_. As soon as he stops breastfeeding, you will need to give him regular injections._

"And screw him up like Isha is?" Zak forced his words through gritted teeth.

_It is indeed unfortunate,_ Talidor said with honest sympathy, _but as of yet, we have no way to quell the addiction, and it is frankly impossible to reverse such dramatic mutations._

"Great. Any other bad news?"

_He is a psychic._

Zak had to stop himself from gasping out loud. Oh, no. Oh, no oh, no oh, no. He rubbed his forehead. "You're sure?"

_The evidence is undeniable. I believe it will become very potent within him. After all, you clearly have the trait, and Isha was a carrier of the genes responsible. Add to that Protoss genetics, and..._

"I know!" Zak pounded his fist into the wall. "Shit, I shouldn't have..."

_It is not so much a curse..._

"It was for me!"

_Please, calm down..._

Zak ignored him, choking on the lump in his throat. He needed to be with Isha. David. David, why did he have to suffer? He had both of their curses, why?

He went back to Isha's room, concealing his distress. Isha didn't need to know. Not yet. She was happy. Let her be happy for once.

"Hey," he said calmly upon entering.

Gi'eshi's head popped up. _Yay, it's Leer—_

_Zak,_ Temla corrected.

_Oh. Right._

"Hey," she said, smiling up at him. David had finished feeding and was now staring up at them in utter astonishment, hazel eyes wide. He reached forward as soon as he saw Zak, grabbing onto his finger and smiling a big no-toothed grin.

Zak couldn't help smiling back at him. He was barely a day old, and already he was so strong...

Zak wiggled his finger. "Well, look at you. Tough guy, huh?" With David's pink little hand still attached, he gently poked his nose. "Gotcha!"

David blinked, confused, then giggled, drooling a bit.

_Aw, he's so funny!_ Gi'eshi beamed. _Lookit! He's so cute!_

"Glad you think so," Isha laughed. David reached up with his other hand and whapped Zak's large brown finger, trying to imitate his father's poke.

Isha leaned back, watching the two fondly. Zak was so calm with his son... not long ago Talidor was telling her she could never see him again.

She bit her lip. What... what if they tried to take him away again...?

Zak cringed. "Isha, don't think about that." He gingerly picked David up, once again all smiles. "You ever gonna let of that finger?"

David responded by letting go of his finger and pulling his hair (which was back to its original length).

"Ow! Hey, let go!" Zak pried free and held out his finger. "Here, you hold on to this."

David thought the whole spectacle was hilarious.

Isha shifted, slightly nervous without her child. She reached for a glass of water and sipped, allowing the children to crawl onto the bed with her. "Telepaths," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

David pulled his father's hair again, giggling.

"Ow! Okay, you know what?" He handed him off to Isha. "Take him, take him!"

Isha laughed, cuddling the child against her. David made as if to pull _her_ hair, but she flipped it out of the way and offered him her breast. Lighting up, he grabbed it.

Zak smiled at the two of them, his worries leaving him alone for the moment. Everything was okay, at least for the nest five minutes. As long as there would be moments like these, he might just be able to pull through.

Xan'Iir sat down, rubbing her temples. Aiur, lost. Tassadar, dead. The Conclave, eradicated—something she'd personally played a hand in. At least half of her people, gone in one massive catastrophe. Zhadak, oh, Zhadak...

She couldn't help but think it was her fault.

_Gods, why must my people suffer?_

_Mother?_

She looked up, then sighed with relief. _Nag'Jihn, my little one!_ She wrapped her arms around him, glad that her son had made it out alive.

_Mother..._ Nag'Jihn mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

She released him, backing away to see him better. _My, look at you! Growing by the day! Gods, I was so worried!_ She hugged him again.

_Mother!_

_Hush._

Nag'Jihn rolled his eyes. He loved his mother dearly, and had been terribly worried about her...

But any more hugs, and his spine would snap in half.

_I've missed you, too, Mother,_ he said sincerely, finally free of her embrace. _Where is Father? I've been looking all over for him._

Xan'Iir cringed and looked away. _He... Nag'Jihn, please, do not..._

The boy quivered with dread. _He's not... He made it out, right?_

She embraced him again, and this time he readily let her. _Oh, my little one..._

_Did he make it?_

She sobbed. _Do... do not grieve... He... has reached the Khala's end... Nobly... for Aiur... his people... Oh, gods..._

The two became silent for the longest time.

_Mother?_ Nag'Jihn said quietly, still shaking. _I don't know how much this will help, but those Terrans you rescued? Their son was born. Should we go see?_

Xan'Iir nodded, glad to have something to take her mind off things. Everything was so dark and grim...

_Yes, let us go. Lead the way, my son._

Isha looked up as they came in. Her eyes lit up at Nag'Jihn, then grew wary at Xan'Iir. "Hello," she said cautiously, grasping Zak's hand in warning. "High—oh no, Executrix, right? And Nag'Jihn." Her smile grew wider. "Come meet David."

Xan'Iir stayed by the door and folded her arms, letting a little bit of admiration sneak into her gaze. _A strong child. You have full right to be proud of him._

Nag'Jihn cocked his head as he drew nearer. _Human babies are pink?_ He poked David gently. _And soft?_ He blinked and looked at Isha. _He looks like you. Could I hold him?_

Isha beamed. "Of course." Gently she took him from her breast and held him out, biting her lip as Nag'Jihn took him. "Be careful..."

_I wanna hold him!_ Gi'eshi complained.

_Silly, you'd just drop him,_ Buro retorted.

_I would not!_

_Buro, Temla, Gi'eshi. Time to go._ Sa'avi had stepped out a moment, now beckoning at the door.

There was much grumbling, but they eventually left.

David stared up at the young Protoss, then beamed and grabbed a nerve-cord.

_He's such a cute little thing—ack! Ow, ow, ouch, ow, ouch, ouch!_ He pried David's hand away. _No pulling the nerve cords, all right?_

_I told you to tie them back..._

_Yes, Mother, I know..._ He looked down at David, who was now crying at the deprivation of the nerve cord. _Oh, dear, now what? Fine, here, take it._

David grasped the nerve cord again, giggling as the young Protoss grunted with discomfort.

"David," Isha said softly, reaching up to pluck the nerve-cord from him. "Stop that."

David began to cry again, and with a soft sigh, she took him. "Now, stop it."

Immediately he beamed up at her, giggling and drooling.

"Good boy." She handed him back. She'd go outside with him, but it was just so cold...

Nag'Jihn gave the baby a funny look. _You're a weird little one, you know that?_

David kicked and giggled.

"I think he likes you," Zak said, amused, although slightly uneasy at seeing his child in the arms of a Protoss.

_Really? Marvelous! You like me, David?_

Yank.

_Ow! I guess that's a yes._

Xan'Iir watched her son with the baby proudly. Then, her face darkened as an outside message reached here. _I must go. Nag'Jihn, stay here if you wish, but keep out of trouble._

_Where are you going, Mother?_

_I have duties to attend to._

Isha watched as Xan'Iir left, then pushed the covers away and stood, swaying slightly. She took Zak's arm and pulled the nerve-cord out of David's grasp. "Stop that, I said."

David touched Nag'Jihn's face, beaming.

"Do we have an extra robe? I'd like to go outside."

Nag'Jihn cocked his head slightly. _I'm sure they've got extras somewhere..._

Zak gave Isha a questioning glance. "Outside? You sure? It's so cold out there... and dark. Rocks everywhere. You could get hurt."

David yanked a nerve cord again, oblivious to his mother's scoldings.

"Yes, I'm sure." Isha wrapped an extra around her and took David again. "Stop it."

David beamed.

Isha walked out of the door into the hall, ignoring the hovering Zak. Nag'Jihn showed her the way.

And she stepped out into the cold darkness of Shakuras for the second time. Several Dark Templar turned to stare.

Zak wrapped an arm firmly around Isha's waist. "Careful, Isha..."

"I'll be fine, Zak." Cradling her child, Isha gazed around at the dark, mysterious surroundings. David fell silent, mouth open and staring.

_Isha. I am glad you are outside,_ murmured a voice. She looked around but couldn't see who had spoken—then a few green slashes caught her eyes. They were far away, but then they moved in an unmistakable bow and Zeratul turned away. She smiled, leaning into Zak. "It's beautiful, in a strange sort of way."

"Mm, yeah, I guess it is... Strange, anyway." He leaned over to examine David. "He's not too cold, is he?"

"He's fine. Look, he's smiling." She smiled along with her son, kissing Zak on the cheek. "We're okay. Relax."

It was so cold...

"No, we're not. You're shivering." Zak embraced her, rubbing her arms to get rid of the goosebumps. "We should go inside..."

He looked at her. It was strange—she seemed to be only half there. "Isha, what are you... you're cloaking!"

"What?" She frowned slightly, looking down at herself. "No I'm not, silly... it's just dark."

David cooed.

"See? He likes it here..."

Zak tightened his embrace. "I don't," he muttered quietly.

He sighed. "Isha? I want... I want David to grow up someplace else. I want him to be..." He paused, stroking the baby's forehead and brushing his fine hair aside. "... Human. I want him to do all the things we missed out on."

It was a dumb statement, but it was true. He wanted his son to grow up... well, just grow up. He and Isha had never gotten that chance.

She nodded slowly. "I know, Zak," she murmured. "I know."

She shivered. The cold was finally getting to her.

"Let's go back inside, okay?"

The next few weeks were sheer bliss.

David was indeed a healthy child, and Zak loved him more each day. He showed no health problems, although there was quite a panic when he vomited. Everyone rushed around until it was finally discovered that his behavior was perfectly normal.

The war raged on, but Zak could have cared less. It no longer affected him, so long as he was with David and Isha. He hadn't had an attack since the first day here, and Talidor was very proud of his progress. The children were frequent visitors, and in those rare quiet moments Zak and Isha fondly discussed their dreams of the future.

A thought brushed against his mind. David was happy.

_Me too, kid,_ he thought back, smiling down at him. _Me, too._

"How's the big boy?"

Weird sayings like that had become perfectly normal to Isha. David loved to hear his parents' voices, and would respond enthusiastically whenever they spoke to him. As now, he beamed up at her and waved his little fists excitedly. Isha smiled, picking him up and touching a kiss to his forehead. "My big boy!"

David hooted. Isha laughed, sharing a kiss with Zak. Her... husband. It seemed so strange to think of him like that...

_I wanna hold him!_

"Not now, Gi'eshi."

_Please? You let Nag'Jihn hold him!_

Nag'Jihn snorted. _That's cause I won't drop him._ He and David had become quite the pair, David attaching himself to him almost immediately.

_I won't—_

A Dark Templar suddenly made himself known, and the children either shrieked or hid. Ignoring them, he bowed.

_Terrans Zachary Caldwell and Isha. The battle here is over, and Matriarch Raszagal has decided that you shall be moved a few miles south._

"What's south?" Zak asked, standing up. "Why are we being moved?"

_It is safer there, for the time being._ The Dark Templar nodded once to them before leaving. _Pack,_ he added on the way out. _You leave within the hour._

Isha blinked, then shooed the children out. "Oooookay..." she looked at Zak. "Any idea what's going on?"

"Not a clue."

It didn't take long to pack. They didn't have many things anyway, and the Shuttle was waiting for them.

"I don't like this," Zak muttered, throwing his few worldly possessions into a sack, frowning that some sort of weapon wasn't among them.

Isha lightly kissed his cheek. "It'll be fine, Zak. Stop worrying all the time."

Zak rolled his eyes. He was such a sap... "Okay."

She kissed him again—no doubt some form of mind control—and shouldered her bag. "C'mon, let's go."

"Isha, here, I'll take that. You're already carrying David."

"_Za_-ak..."

He took the bag, despite significant protest, and followed the Dark Templar out to the Shuttle. They were just about to board when several little telepathic voices cried out simultaneously.

_Wait!_

Zak turned, smiling at the children. "Hey, kids."

_Wait, wait, you can't go until I say goodbye!_ Gi'eshi hugged Isha around the waist, squeezing a bit too tight for comfort. Temla joined in the embrace, pressing a tiny sack into Isha's hand.

_Here,_ she said, _it is the earth from David's birthplace, so he's always home wherever he goes. That one big Dark Templar with the green eyes wanted me to give it to you._

Isha smiled warmly. "I'm guessing that's Zeratul. Thank you, Temla."

Buro shuffled his feet. _I wish you a fair journey,_ he said flatly, doing his best to hide his emotion.

"Nice try," Zak chuckled, patting him on the head. "I'll miss ya, squirt."

_I'm almost as tall as you. I'm not little._

"Whatever." He looked over at Nag'Jihn. "No goodbye from you?"

The young alien shook his head, his nerve cords fanning out at the motion. _I'm coming with you._

"Really?"

_You'll need a bodyguard._

Zak rolled his eyes. "Mm-hm..."

Nag'Jihn sagged his shoulders, embarrassed. _That and Mother doesn't want me so close to a war zone._

"Thought so."

"Oh, leave him alone," Isha laughed, giving Nag'Jihn a little hug around the shoulders. "I'm glad you're coming. David likes you a lot."

Nag'Jihn stared at the ground but his face was bright with a smile. David giggled.

_Would you like me to hold him?_

She smiled. "No, I have him for now. Thanks, though." She knelt to kiss Gi'eshi and Temla, and—despite his protests—Buro. "Good-bye. I hope to see you again."

They whined and cried, but in the end finally left them alone long enough for them to board the Shuttle. David waved merrily but soon decided her breast was better to pay attention to.

It was a long, boring ride. And where they got off looked almost exactly the same, except for the fact that the base was nestled into a huge network of canyons.

"Well," Isha muttered, "I still don't see any reason why we had to move here."

Zak shrugged. "Well, we're here now, so I guess we're stuck."

Their Dark Templar escort motioned for them to follow.

They settled into the monotonous routine of Shakuras. Though David made it quite interesting, as he slowly... very slowly... first learned how to roll over, then crawl. Nag'Jihn had fallen absolutely in love with him, they could tell, even calling him "riis-gar" sometimes, which he explained with some embarrassment was "foster brother."

Until they found out about Allen Schezar.

Zak paced back and forth, scratching his head. "Wait a minute... This guy, this Schezar or whatever... He _controlled_ a Zerg _Cerebrate?_"

The Dark Templar nodded once. _Yes. We do not know why or how, but we are tracking him down. Soon we shall have answers._ He paused, thinking a moment. _There is a new objective, however... we believe that there are several warriors left on Aiur._ Musing to himself now, he wandered away, intent on something else. Isha rolled her eyes and bounced David on one knee.

Damned Protoss...

A few days later, Isha came bolting into the room, dead white and terrified. Zak was taking care of David and shot to his feet when she attached herself to him, a low sob ripping from her throat.

"Isha! What's wrong?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Then, "Him. _Him._"

"What?"

"Zak," she sobbed, "they're bringing him _here!_"

"Isha, who? Who are they bringing?" Zak asked, although her panic made the answer quite obvious.

She threw herself into his arms. "They're bringing _him_, Zak! He'll be here, and he'll..."

_Be tried, sentenced, and executed,_ finished a Dark Templar calmly. _Ulrezaj and his followers or minions or whatever you wish to call them won't last more than a day of two here, and that will be in a stasis cell, I assure you._

Zak rubbed Isha's back. "See? No reason to be scared."

Then why was he scared shitless?

"Hey, let's go find Nag and David before they get into trouble."

Isha nodded once, jerkily, shaking uncontrollably. She knew better, however... if he didn't want to be somewhere... he wouldn't. He would get out.

"Isha, it's going to be okay."

"It won't, it won't..."

She didn't stop shaking. Not even when she found Nag'Jihn and David, the Protoss in the middle of teaching the Terran how to tickle, and not even when she fed David and put him to bed. She didn't sleep that night.

Nor the next.

Nor when her Master and his servants were brought in and put in Stasis Cells.

Nor when the Terrans attacked.

"Isha, please go to sleep."

She nestled against him, shivering. "I c-can't..."

"You need sleep, Isha."

"I _can't!_"

"Isha..."

She sat up suddenly, fists clenched and lip trembling. "But he's... he's..."

"Iced." Zak put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her tenderly. His face was filled with genuine concern when he pulled away. "Now, please, relax. You've got people looking out for you."

"Zak..."

"As long as you stay freaked out, I can't sleep either." He gave a tired smile, gently rubbing her shoulders with his thumbs. "So do everyone a favor and..."

Isha bit her lip. "Zak?"

"Shit!" He jumped out of bed, running for the door.

"Zak?"

"Stay here, Isha." Zak bolted down the stone hallway, searching for someone--_anyone_--who would know what to do.

He knew the sound of Wraith thrusters when he heard them.

Their Dark Templar escort met him in the hallway, Nag'Jihn with him. _Get your family and head underground. A fleet of Terran vessels has been sighted, and we have reason to believe they are hostile._

Zak shook his head. "They're already here."

At that moment, a distant stone pillar burst into a million pieces, ignited by laser fire.

"Shit," Zak spat again.

_I concur._

"Nag, get David and Isha."

_Of course, but where are you going?_

"Don't worry about me, just go get 'em!"

Nag'Jihn nodded and sprinted away.

The Dark Templar shook his head, already heading for some destination that was obviously important. _I don't understand. This settlement is completely hidden! The only way they would have found it—_

"Is if they already knew where it was?"

The Dark Templar stopped dead in his tracks, cold with the sudden realization. _We must get to prisoner containment. That is their target._

With David nestled in her arms, Isha quickly followed Nag'Jihn down into the underground, cold and trembling. As if he sensed the gravity of the situation, little David was quite silent.

It was a little warmer in the tunnels, and Nag'Jihn led them to a wide cavern where large alcoves were carved with semblances of statues, pillars, and artwork in the traditional dark grace of their hosts.

_Here..._ Nag'Jihn stopped at a smaller cave where a resting area was set up. _You get some rest._

Isha laughed once, bitterly, holding her child close. There was no way she was getting rest...

_Would you like me to take him?_ he gestured to the baby. With a distant nod, Isha let him lever the growing child out of her arms.

_Look David, there's a shiny over there..._ Nag'Jihn walked away, letting Isha with her thoughts. She was grateful for the pause.

But it wasn't as if she could think anyway, as the sounds of battle drew closer.

Zak had no idea that the Dark Templar had so many defenses. They had fighters, artillery, infantrymen… and here he was thinking they were a bunch of nomadic tribesmen. He had to hand it to them for hiding their standing army so well, but then again, hiding was what they were good at.

Schezar's men, however, didn't give a flying shit.

They attacked without mercy, destroying anything that moved or looked important. The Dark Templar fought back with unrivaled vigor, and Zak thought that there was a pretty good chance of them sending the Terran raiders back to wherever they came from.

Too bad he was totally useless without a weapon.

His Dark Templar escort must have read his mind. _Here,_ he said, handing him a gun from a freshly killed Marine. _Make use of yourself._

Zak didn't need to be told twice. He ran up a set of stone stairs, out onto a balcony that provided sufficient cover and a wonderful view, and set to work picking the attackers off one by one. The gun wasn't at all like his old rifle, but it was a familiar enough model, and it didn't take long to adjust.

He hoped Isha was all right…

_Focus!_ he mentally shouted at himself. A stray bullet that hit the wall a little too close for comfort punctuated the statement. Blinking to clear his head, he let his training take over.

Through the roar of battle and general havoc, an ear-splitting crack and a following rumble could be heard. The ground shook from the shock of whatever had exploded, and Zak braced himself against it.

He got the feeling that the explosion was very bad news.

_Fall back!_ The cry came from nowhere, and Isha hugged herself tight. _Fall back!_

Where was Zak? She needed him...

_It'll be all right,_ Nag'Jihn said from across the cavern, awkwardly. She gave him a strained smile and turned away.

Water. Yes, a nice drink of water.

She walked over to the underground stream. It was small, but she had an idea that it was clean, like the rest of the Dark Templar. She knelt, braced herself, and put her hands in the water.

"Eep!"

Damn it was cold!

_Do you require assistance?_

Isha blinked and looked up. A Dark Templar stood at the other side of the stream, closer to the entrance and partially hidden in darkness.

"Um," she said, "no, that's okay, I just..."

He crossed the stream quickly and smoothly, and knelt beside her. Way, way too close for comfort. She shifted away.

He moved in order to stay as close.

"Excuse me," she said, a little uncomfortable, "what are you—"

The Dark Templar turned. Her eyes caught the mark on his cheek.

_Slave—_

Her eyes widened. Before she could do anything, however, hands wrapped around her arms and the Dark Templar smiled and oh no oh god it was one of the ones who had raped her no no no no no—

"What the hell was that?" Zak asked aloud, referring to the explosion.

His Dark Templar guide narrowed his eyes, glaring at the pillar of black smoke. _The prison cells._

Neither of them needed to say another word. They both suspected the worst. They bolted through the swarming armies, rubble, and smoke, Zak's adrenaline driving his body to match the speed of the Protoss.

_It seems this was their target,_ the Dark Templar observed. _But were they trying to destroy the cells or—_

An arch of condensed, green lightning hit him full on, splitting open his chest and sending everything from his shoulders up flying in a different direction than the rest of his body.

Zak didn't scream, didn't gasp, didn't even gulp. He just ran. He ran like hell.

He had to get to David and Isha before they did.

Isha screamed.

Or rather, she tried to scream. A huge dark hand was wrapped halfway across her face, and all she could do was let out small muffled yelps. _No! No no _no!

She was lifted, the Dark Templar stepping back into the shadows. No one had noticed, she realized through her panic. No one noticed that she was being kidnapped. Nag'Jihn was still playing with David.

_Nag'Jihn! Somebody! Anybody! Please!_

The young Protoss blinked and turned, his eyes widening as he witnessed the last of her body slipping into the darkness. _Isha—!_

_Help me, help me please..._

Other Dark Templar had noticed now; they whirled and lunged for them—

—only to be cut down by guns of all sizes as Marines poured into the entrance, backing the Dark Templar and covering him while he fled.

"Nag!"

Nag'Jihn whirled around, his eyes wide in panic. _Ah! They've got her! They've got Isha and I tried to stop them and there were Terrans and..._

Zak's face remained expressionless. "Is David okay?"

_Um, yes, I think, but I don't—_

Zak took the baby into his arms. "Hush, there, it all right," he said softly, nestling him close. "Daddy's got you."

_Did... did you not hear me? They took Isha! They..._ Nag'Jihn stopped, taking a good look at Zak.

He was crying.

Zak trembled, sobbing into his son's thin, black hair. He'd failed. He'd lost her again.

She attacked him with her claws, digging her way past scales to draw blood. Startled that she had such gall, he dropped her and she bolted, only to be caught by the other one.

_Lord Ulrezaj is waiting for you,_ he breathed, pinning her arms to her sides. _He is very eager to see you again. Perhaps he will reward us, as well, for bringing you back..._

Isha let out a mangled sob, writhing. The covering Marines turned to look at her in confusion, but they were the resocialized kind, and did not do a thing.

She was taken aboard a Wraith where she huddled in the corner, as far away from her captors as possible. They remained where they were, surrounding her, watching her with cold, cruel eyes.

Of course she was caught. She should have known never to think she was safe. Not while _he_ was loose. Not while he was looking for her...

They landed.

A Dark Templar female kneeled down beside Zak. _They are gone, now._

"But he escaped," Zak muttered, clutching his child to his chest and trying to make himself disappear altogether.

_We are hunting for them; all hope is not lost._

"They took Isha."

_As I said, we are hunting—_

"Dammit, don't you know what he'll do to her?!" Zak shot to his feet, his anger frightening David to tears.

The Protoss wrinkled her brow, then looked away, saying nothing.

Zak glared at her, then whispered softly to David, trying to calm him down. "Shh, shh, Daddy's here, Daddy loves you, that's my big boy..."

"Hey man, what's with the girl?" An older man stepped out of his Goliath, pulling a cigarette from his mouth, frowning. Isha looked up at him, a small kindle of hope in her breast. It disappeared when the Dark Templar ignored him, and the man shrugged. "Ulrezaj is waiting for ya in the cave. He's really impatient."

"No," Isha whispered, struggling anew. The Dark Templar shook her, and she stilled.

"Please..."

The man blinked at her, but the Dark Templar dragged her away.

_Ahhhh... my pet..._

It was almost exactly the same as the cave he used back "home"...

Ulrezaj smiled greedily at Isha, his burning eyes sliding down her body like a grotesque slug. _My, my... you look rather strong, my pet. But we'll fix that..._

His lackey tightened his grip on Isha's wrists. _Don't you dare try to run,_ he hissed.

_Oh, don't worry, my good servant,_ Ulrezaj chuckled, stepping forward, his arms spread wide to welcome his pawns. _She cannot possibly run away. After all, she belongs to me..._

The slave released his grip, and Ulrezaj's eyes stretched into a cruel grin. _Come here, my pet. Your master has missed you._

"NO!"

Isha turned to run, only to be blocked by the two servants. She looked around wildly. No no no oh no please...

_Come here..._

His hands were on her. His claws were stabbing into her. Isha screamed.

_No no stop please don't I hate you bastard stop it let me go!_

He woke up screaming.

David, angry at being startled out of his sleep, immediately began to cry. Nag'Jihn burst through the door, his features wrought with panic. _What's happening!? Are you all right?!_

Zak scrunched his face and wiped the sweat off his brow. "I'm fine..." He stood up and tottered over to where his son lay, and poked him on the nose. "Hey, chill out, Davey. Go back to sleep." He bent down to kiss his fat little cheek, and as if by magic, David was slumbering once more.

_What was that screaming, then?_

"Bad dream," Zak muttered, flopping back into bed. "You can relax, Nag."

_Oh... all right..._ The young Protoss bowed and left.

Zak didn't fall back asleep. His eyes stayed wide open, and very muscle was tense. He knew his visions weren't a dream.

For Isha, it was all very real.

He'd failed her. Over and over again, he'd failed to keep her safe.

He'd already cried for hours. His grief was gone. What was left was anger... at Ulrezaj... and at himself.

He had to make up for it. He had to rescue her somehow, but he had David to look after, too.

He wasn't strong enough. But that didn't mean he was giving up.

_...I am not strong enough..._

Isha peeked one swollen eye open. Her Master had smashed both of them a few hours before, backhanding her across the face so viciously she could feel several teeth missing and there was blood on her lips and nose and ears...

_Must be stronger._ He was whispering to himself, crouching on the ground, his cold flame eyes half-shut.

_Yes. I must be stronger. Much stronger._ He turned his head, slowly, and stared at her, smiling slightly. _Ahh, good morning, my pet. Had a good night's sleep?_

Isha flinched and looked away. In the past few days, she had been raped repeatedly and tortured in both mind and body. She had had just a few hours of sleep... sometimes only a few minutes at a time... before it started all over again. "Yes, Master," she whispered, nonetheless.

_That's a good pet._ He shifted over and reached out to pat her on the head. He got up then, and looked around. His servants appeared from the darkness, strange looks in their flaming eyes.

_We must be stronger, my good servants,_ Ulrezaj hissed, drawing himself to his full height. _We must be stronger if we are to destroy the slaves of the Khala. Will you join with me?_

They bowed low, kneeling on the floor. _We will, Lord._

He smiled. _Good._

David was zooming around the floor at a high-paced crawl, with Nag'Jihn chasing after him. _David, come on! I know you've gone and excreted again! You need to stop so you can be cleaned!_

Zak watched both of them, finding amusement in how the young Protoss referred to David's bodily functions. And David was getting to be such a strong little boy...

He stood up. "All right, Nag, I'll get him." He bent down and scooped the boy up, rubbing noses with him and making nonsensical noises as David kicked and giggled with glee.

_Why do you do that?_

"Do what?"

_Make those strange noises. I know they aren't words._

"He likes it. Doncha, Davey boy?"

Nag'Jihn shrugged as David erupted into another giggle fit.

Zak brought the baby closer, holding him securely. "Okay, let's go get rid of the poopy."

_The what?_

He rolled his eyes. "Feces."

_Oh._

He put David down gently on the bed, undoing the cloth that served as a makeshift diaper. "Hey, Nag..."

_Yes?_

"I wouldn't stand so close if I were you."

_Why not?_

Nag'Jihn immediately found out why. He shrieked and jumped back, then ran out of the room to wash himself, powerfully cursing "Terran bodily waste."

Zak smirked to himself as he finished up with David. "There you go, Stinky. Can I trust you not to crap in that one for awhile?"

David beamed up at his father, showing off the few teeth he had.

"Yeah, that's what I thought..." He gathered the baby up in his arms and sat down, grabbing the bowl that sat next to the bed. "Okay, lunch time."

_Isha, please hold out a bit longer. David and I need you._

He had to save her somehow... but he couldn't leave David. But David needed his mother... but if he died trying to find her, then...

He had to get stronger. His fingers went up to find the bump in his skull where a very specific procedure had cut through.

The dampener had to go. As soon as David was asleep again, he'd find one of the healers, and that damn chip would be out of him forever.

Ulrezaj stepped forward, his eyes burning with unbridled fury. A faint, reddish glow encased his body. _We will join together, my loyal disciples, and in doing so become immortal. We shall challenge the power of the very gods, and we shall destroy all that opposes our will._

The glow around him intensified, and tiny bits of flesh seemed to burst into flame and float away. _Stand, Taruz, my right hand, my eyes._

One servant stood, keeping his head bowed. He cried out as his master's hand dug deep into his chest, yanking out one of his hearts. He crumpled to the ground, his hands over the bloody hole.

Ulrezaj held the organ in his hands, watching with delight as it burned. He only seemed to be half-existent, as parts of him became flame then shadow then flesh again.

_Irdeis, my left hand, my cords, arise._

Irdies shakily obeyed, quivering with excitement and fear. Ulrezaj's hand once again shot out, digging into the other side of his chest and yanking out a heart.

Irdies screamed, still managing to stand, but only just.

Ulrezaj was now entirely aflame with an unnatural blaze, his eyes turned white against the roaring fire. _Now,_ he said, his voice carrying more force than ever before, not even flinching as his non-physical hand went into his abdomen and crushed the third heart, _we become ONE._

Everything was on fire. Red lighting cracked against the walls of the cave, and rocks swirled though the air like autumn leaves. The two servants stood up, shoulders back, pain forgotten. They walked in a trance towards the flaming mass that was once their lord and master.

And the fire consumed them. The storm intensified to a fever pitch. Above the terrible roar of it all, something arose. Something both godly and demonic, its body crimson flame, white lightning, and twisted shadow.

And it was laughing.

Isha screamed, covering her head with her hands. Heat and fury blasted her, and some of her own flesh hissed and crackled as it burned. Unable to see where she was going, she lunged into the darkness, stumbling and falling with her broken body. "Master! MASTER!"

Laughter. Horrible, horrible laughter, with more power then he ever had, oh god it was terrible and it was eating her mind...

_Where are you going, my pet?_ A huge force gripped her, dragging her slowly back.

_We are far from finished with you..._

The demonic being gestured with one long, burning finger, jerking Isha to her feet like a puppet on strings.

_What do you think, my pet?_ it boomed, its psychic voice permeating every one of Isha's cells. _Are we not impressive?_

It dragged Isha to itself, its blazing eyes wild with its own power. _Now, nothing will stand in our way. Not even you will defy us._

Isha's body was lifted off the ground, an invisible force clamped around her neck. _You are under our control, my pet. You are our little toy, and you shall do exactly as we say._ It dug into her mind, forcing her willpower aside. _Won't you?_

He awoke very slowly.

His head hurt like hell, and what he'd seen while he slept hadn't been pretty. If he believed in any sort of God, he would be praying his ass off that it wasn't true.

But he knew better. He'd seen it all though Isha's eyes...

_The Terran is awake I hope Mother's all right damn warp blade's shorted out again I wonder how things are on the battle front Daddy Daddy hungry hungry this was not a wise decision do you think he knows the consequences—_

"Whoah..." Zak put a hand on his head, steadying himself against the barrage of jumbled thoughts. "Okay, shut it out..."

_You have awakened?_

"Sort of."

_The procedure was a success, though I stand by what I said before..._

"Let me see it."

The healer cocked his head. _See what?_

"The chip. I want proof."

There was a psychic sigh, then a string of thoughts that Zak probably wasn't supposed to hear, and the healer placed something small in his hands.

"So this is it..." Zak whispered to himself, staring down at the tiny device in his palm. It looked like a curved computer chip, but with a long needle protruding from the bottom and smaller ones around the edges.

He fingered his head and brushed against a tiny bald patch with tender, fresh skin.

_I still don't think you understand exactly what this means. That device was an important safety measure for yourself as well as others. None of us have any idea how much power resides within you, and unless—_

Zak clenched his fist, crushing the dampener once and for all and letting the pieces fall to the ground. "Yeah, I know. Gotta be careful."

_You could very easily hurt someone—_

"I know!" Zak snapped, and a glass instrument next to him shattered. He stared at it in shock.

"I... I did that?"

_Yes._

He stared off into the distance for a moment, then stood. "David's hungry. Gotta go feed him."

_Is that wise so soon after—_

_Shut up,_ Zak growled, failing to realize his lips weren't moving. He stomped back to his room, brightening as David saw him come in.

"Hey, Davey. You hungry?" He scooped the baby up, sharing fully in his innocent delight at his father's return.

_Daddy Daddy hungry hungry!_

"Yeah, I know," he said softly, picking up a bowl of food. "Hey, guess what, Davey? We're gonna go get Mommy back soon."

There was no way out.

The creature's power rippled through her, destroying any amount of defiance she might have had.

_Yes... Master. Anything._

Its savage power turned to pleasure, making her swoon. Yes! She would do anything to get his pleasure... that was all she wanted. That was all that mattered.

Save her drug.

It smiled, gesturing. _Good pet. Very good pet._

A needle flew across the room and buried itself in her neck. The pleasure was so great she fell to the ground, writhing with joy. _Yes Master yes yes oh yes... Master..._

It laughed, terrifyingly, but to her it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard... _Pleasure us, slave. Give us pleasure._

"Anything, Master."

Zak doubled over, gasping as he felt the contents of his stomach rise to his throat. He set David down on the bed, supporting him with pillows, and ran as fast as he could with his hand over his mouth.

He made it outside just in time. He gagged, coughed, and spat up the remaining bile into the sand, wiping his mouth off with a shaking, white arm. Cold sweat formed in beads on his forehead, dripping down to join the mess on the ground.

Somehow, he knew what was happening to Isha. Maybe it was just his imagination, or maybe the absence of the dampener had kicked his sensitivity into overdrive, but he was very sure of what he had seen.

What he had _felt._

"Isha, what is he doing to you?" he croaked, then bent over and grasped his knees as his stomach emptied itself again.

What he—no, _it_—was doing to her was disturbing enough. He could practically smell her flesh burning where that _thing_ touched her. He could see those eyes, those demonic eyes, staring her in the face. He could her as she cried out…

But it wasn't a cry of agony. No, she was _enjoying_ it.

Zak hissed a very powerful curse before vomiting a third time.

Zeratul set a hand on the Terran's forehead, calming his mind and gently pushing away the sickness.

_Terran,_ he said softly.

"He's... he's done something to her." Zak shuddered, clutching his shoulders and staring at the ground. "He's done something to her and I don't know what but it's fucking her up and now she... she's... Ah, fuck..."

_Calm yourself, Terran. As long as you can feel her, you know she is alive._

Zak nodded, gasping and hiccupping, then managed a weak "is David okay?"

_He is perfectly fine. The young Templar saw you out here and went to him._

"Okay... okay, he's okay..." He stood back up, still white as paper and wet with sweat.

"Zeratul? What's happening to her?"

Zeratul closed his eyes. _Ulrezaj has become one with his servants. He has become what we call a Dark Archon._ Seeing that Zak did not understand, he continued. _By merging their bodies and minds together, High Templar can become a powerful entity, called an Archon. We Dark Templar become Dark Archons, able to warp minds and wills in a moment._

"So he's... he's..." Zak lurched forward. "I'll kill him! I'll kill him I'll kill him I'll kill him I'll fucking kill him and I'm not gonna miss just one shot one fucking shot's all I need and I'll kill that bastard and he'll be dead and oh shit oh shit not again..." He put his hands on his face, hyperventilating, struggling to regain control.

"Okay... I'm fine... I'm okay... I'm gonna kill him, but I can't right now, but that's okay because Isha's still holding on... She'll still be there, it's okay, she's tough..." His knees buckled as he choked with sudden pain. "Dammit, he's still doing it!"

A large, scaled hand was placed on his shoulder, and Zeratul dulled the panic raging within the Terran's mind. _Calm down._

"Okay..." He sniffed and straightened himself, still a bit shaky. "Thanks. I don't know how you did that, but thanks."

The old Protoss's green eyes studied him carefully. _Something has changed. There is... more._

"Yeah. The dampener's gone. Heh, probably gonna lose it again with all the shit that's going in and out of my head right now..."

_What can you feel?_

"Damn near everything."

_Can you control it?_

"Sort of. If I try."

Zeratul nodded. _Good. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for._

Zak looked at him, snorted, and shrugged. "Yeah, whatever, but thanks anyway."

There was a loud, metallic _clang_, a sound curse from Nag'Jihn, and a startled wail from David.

_You should attend to your child, now._

"Yeah." Zak trudged back to his room, glancing back over his shoulder. _Thanks,_ he sent to Zeratul before entering the chaos Nag'Jihn and David had created.

"Nag, what did you do?"

_It fell!_

"What fell?"

_It's not broken!_

"That doesn't answer my... Ugh, whatever. Hey, Davey! How's my boy doing?"

A pilot slammed her cards down on the table. "Ha! Eat that, bitches!"

"You're kidding me."

"She's cheating."

The pilot gathered up her winnings. "Am not. That was fair and square, boys. You're just jealous that I kicked your asses." She ran a hand cockily though her cropped, black hair. "So, who's next?"

"Oh, hell, no!"

She snorted. "Cowards."

"Look, Chen, we love a good game of poker as much as you, but seriously, _four times?!_"

The pilot—Amy Chen—shrugged. "Luck of the draw, I guess. So, if you guys are too scared to play cards, who's turn is it to fly over and check on the bugs?" She jabbed her finger in the direction of a small Zerg nest, just outside the base's perimeter.

"I don't see why we gotta check 'em all the time," one muttered. "Boss's got a pretty good hold on 'em."

A man in the back stood up. "Hell, I'm bored enough, I'll go."

"Have fun, Jennings."

Another man stood. "Oy, Chen! You know who I think we need to check on? Those guys over there! They look pretty damn shifty to me!"

Amy rolled her eyes. "The Protoss'll keep their end of the bargain so long as Boss keeps his. We don't gotta worry about it."

"Fine. I dare you."

"No."

"Come on, oh fearless one!"

"No!"

"Just walk over there and say hello!"

"Okay, fine!" Amy shoved her hands in her pockets, spinning on her heels and beginning to walk over. "So long as that's all I gotta do!"

She wandered amongst the shadowy Protoss, looking from face to scaly face. They were all motionless, sitting with their eyes closed. _Must be asleep,_ she thought to herself.

Movement caught her eye. She looked up, and saw a flash of pale skin before it vanished into a cave up ahead. It looked like a person—a human...

"Um, Chen? Might wanna turn back, now..."

"I saw something in there..."

"Chen, Boss said nobody goes in the cave..."

"I'm just gonna look..."

"Dammit, Chen!"

She poked her head into the rocky space. "Hello?" she whispered tentatively. She glanced around, and her eyes fell on a young woman, clothed in the remains of what must have been a dress of some sorts, huddled in a corner with bruises on her face and shoulders.

Amy's jaw dropped, and her narrow, dark eyes widened. "Oh my God. Are you okay, ma'am?"

Blank, crystalline eyes locked onto her—as much as they could, anyway, with both swollen eyelids.

"Are you...?"

"Get out," hissed a voice from the huddled figure.

"But—you're hurt—" Amy took another step inside. "Who did this to you? The Protoss?"

The figure shifted, and Amy saw it was a girl. A young woman, actually. "It is none of your business."

"But if they did this—if they did this, they haven't held up their bargain!"

"Chen!"

She looked back.

The Protoss were moving.

"I told you to get out," the figure whispered.

Amy bit her lip, frozen where she stood. They'd made a deal, they wouldn't do anything to her...

Would they?

"L-look, ma'am," she managed to croak out between gulps. "I'm not j-just gonna leave you here. P-personal morals, you know?"

The Protoss arose, and some of them had noticed her. A small group was heading in her direction, looking, for lack of a better way to put it, pissed as hell.

"Oh... God."

"Chen! Run for it, dammit!"

_You Terrans were ordered not to cross boundaries._

The pilot shrank back, remembering just how much those fire-eyed aliens scared her...

"I... I was just leaving... Erm, sir. I'll b-be right out, th-thanks..."

"No you won't."

Amy looked over her shoulder at the beaten woman. "What?"

The woman stood, her long hair cascading over her face and shoulders. "You won't be leaving. Don't worry, your friends will understand..."

The Protoss had surrounded her, but they were advancing no further. Amy's panicked eyes darted from one to the other, searching for any sign of reason or mercy...

"Chen!"

She did not scream. She did not try to run. For by the time her fellow soldier had called out to her, it was too late.

Nobody was expecting the woman to be the attacker.

"Master is pleased," Isha said softly, a warm smile on her beaten face. She closed her eyes and sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. "He will reward me well."

Schezar sat in his Goliath, mulling things over. The "things" that he was thinking about had gotten out of hand. Ulrezaj was mad, a condition that he had once thought was simply fanaticism. He had joined with his other two close minions, forming something called a "Dark Archon," and now he had rigged Schezar's own Goliath to explode if he did anything to go back on his word.

And, a few minutes ago, he had gotten word that a pilot, Amy Chen, a damn good pilot in Schezar's opinion, had been attacked by the Protoss. Of course, she had gone into the cave specifically told by the big Protoss boss _not_ to enter. And then there were accounts of a frail, beaten _human_ woman that was there as well...

He was upset that it had been Chen. She was a good pilot, a little loud, cheated horribly at poker, and well-liked by almost everybody, himself included.

Then these Zerg... he frowned, biting his lip. Ulrezaj had insisted that all the Zerg be around him—another paranoid decision to make sure Schezar did not try to betray him. As if! He _never_ went back on his word. Unless betrayed himself... and Schezar was feeling mighty betrayed. But there was no way to get out...

Meanwhile on Shakuras, the Dark Templar were preparing a strike force.

They tried to keep him distanced from it, knowing that he was stressed and had a child to look after, but Zak knew exactly what was going on.

And he insisted on joining in.

_But what about your son?_

"I trust Nag to look after him. Besides, I'll come back."

_You cannot be certain of that._

"I told Isha I wouldn't die."

_You're impossible!_

"I need to do this."

_You don't even know what you'll be up against!_

"So? I've faced it all, haven't I? Terran? Hell, I was raised learning how to kill people! Zerg? Seen more than I'd like to. Protoss? I've been around you guys enough to know your weaknesses." His cold, gray eyes unflinchingly stared down the Dark Templar. "And I'm not backing down this time."

So they locked him up. And he escaped. He hated leaving David, but...

But he didn't want him to grow up without a mother, and no way in hell was he ever gonna turn his back on Isha.

It was an easy matter to stow away aboard one of the ships. He was a Ghost, and Ghosts are damn hard to find if they want to stay hidden.

Isha curled into herself on the floor, the giant Dark Archon standing above her. One massive burning hand stroked her head, though it did not harm her.

Before them stood Schezar.

_We trust your troops are ready, Commander..._

"They are," Schezar replied, folding his arms. His Goliath waited outside for him, and he felt strangely naked without it. Not that they would let him leave without being inside of that thing. If he wasn't, he couldn't be blown up.

"But there is still the matter of Chen," he added, gesturing at the girl crouching there. "This girl... killed her."

_That she did. She is a good pet, aren't you, Isha?_

Isha smiled warmly, nodding.

"What have you done to her?" Allen Schezar murmured, softly.

Ulrezaj—or what used to be Ulrezaj—chuckled darkly. _Ready yourself, Commander. Our time draws near._

Schezar stared down at the small, beaten girl. The blankness chilled him.

Turning, he exited the cave.

Curled in a tiny ball, clutching the fallen Marine's rifle tightly, Zak wondered why the hell he'd ever chosen such a tight hiding place. Every single muscle in his body was cramped.

Every. Single. Damn. Muscle.

How long had he been there? Hours? Days? He shifted, managing to move a whole quarter inch. It did more harm then good. At least he was hidden. He was a Ghost. Ghosts were damn good at hiding.

He remembered his dream from the last time he had slept, and shuddered. Well, he would have shuddered if he had the space.

He could only stay awake for a short while, then was back asleep.

The visions came.

Ulrezaj had a new favorite pastime, it seemed. Whenever the demonic entity got the chance, it would dive deep within Isha's mind, forcing her to relive certain memories… and twisting them to suit its warped preferences.

During these hallucinations, it liked to pretend to be Zak. The _real_ Zak saw it all though Isha's eyes when he closed his.

Ulrezaj would pretend to be him—a shining, perfect, charming, unbelievably handsome version of him, anyway. And it would do things to her…

Zak felt like puking just thinking about it. He knew what the bastard wanted. It wasn't just controlling Isha's body and warping her thoughts, it was reshaping her memories so that every feeling of closeness, of happiness, of love Isha had ever felt for Zak was now directed toward itself, and all that was left for the real thing were shattered bits of betrayal, fear, and hatred.

Isha swooned in Ulrezaj's fiery grip, which to her were a pair of strong, soft arms, just like Zak's, only somehow larger, browner, smoother, more muscled… "Master, he's still there. Oh, make him go away, Master."

"Hush, my pet," a soft, calm voice whispered, its tone strangely powerful and seductive. "We can't get rid of him just yet. He has to die first, and then you can forget him forever."

"I hate him, Master. He's so cold and cruel, and he wants to kill you…"

"We know, my pet." Ulrezaj, in its flawless guise, slid its hands over her, making her gasp and arch her back. "But Master has many things to do. We must complete what we have begun. But first…" A sharp, clean-shaven, handsome face leaned in to lick her neck and bite her ear.

"We want you to please us again, my pet. We want you to do to us as he used to make you do."

Isha's eyes were closed, and she nestled against the illusionary body as her own was torn and beaten and violated by the monster that hid behind the angelic veil. She did not fight back at all, simply turned herself towards it and moaned in pleasure.

Zak—the real Zak—awoke with a pained gasp. He knew how much Isha was hurting, and was sick with how much she loved it. He was sick with how easily Ulrezaj had controlled her, sick with how it had chosen to pose as him to better destroy him.

He had to get her out of there. He had to undo whatever spell was upon her.

He needed her. David needed her. She needed both of them.

Ulrezaj needed to die.

The Dark Templar, Zeratul at its head, moved silently through the trees, completely invisible to anyone and everyone who came across them. Dodging missle turrets, either sneaking past or killing Marines, it headed toward its target with deadly accuracy...

Schezar's Goliath.

Zeratul knew something was missing. He felt something in the back of his mind, something tickling, something... Terran?

_...Terran... come out._

"Sonofabitch," Zak muttered, his cover blown. He'd been following them from a distance, and thought for sure he'd pulled it off...

_I need to do this, Zeratul. Don't try to stop me._

Zeratul shook his dark head, sighing in exasperation. _Since you are here, there is nothing I can do about it._ Ignoring him completely now, he pressed on, his warriors behind him.

It was only a short time that they came upon Schezar's Goliath, as it stood there, its master inside brooding silently.

Zak nodded. _Thanks._

He hung back to watch the battle unfold, knowing that right now he'd just be in the way.

Zeratul huddled with his warriors, beckoning Zak to join them. _We must destroy the Zerg surrounding the forces. Only then can we free the Terrans and begin our main assault on Ulrezaj._

Zak nodded, wordlessly cocking his rifle. He was focused, now. He knew what he had to do.

"Wait a minute... who is that guy?"

"Nobody," Zak muttered, concentrating on his surroundings. He could feel the Zerg stirring, ready to strike.

"Why you runnin' 'round with..." Schezar gulped. "Oh hell... You've got—"

"Those eyes. Yeah. Those damn cold eyes."

"Then you're a—"

"Ghost."

"How did you—?"

"They're coming." Zak scanned the horizon, his "damn cold eyes" picking up every detail. "Better get your boys together, Alan. They sound pissed."

Schezar spat, standing up and pulling a smoke out of his pocket. "Jesus... almost preferred the Protoss..."

He wasted no time getting his men ready. And Zak wasted no time pilfering the appropriate supplies.

He had no intention of sticking around to get mauled by Zerg. He had to find Isha.

"Master?"

Ulrezaj turned, his burning eyes locking upon her. Ah, his pet. Broken, bleeding, and loving it; submissive and blank-eyed. He loved his females like this.

_Yes...?_

"He's here, Master." She limped over to him and huddled near him, taking comfort in his flaming, savage, evil presence. "He's here... he wants to kill you..."

_Shhhhh..._ he crooned, reaching out with his mind, touching Zak's own. Smiling, he stroked Isha's hair. _Pet, come here... touch us..._

As his hands slid around her, he sent Zak his emotions, his feelings... all what he was doing to Isha, right now, looking through his own eyes...

Zak clutched his head, dropping to the ground, sending his pack of stolen goodies spilling out around him.

He saw her. He saw Isha. She was in his arms, smiling...

And bleeding. Bruised. He could see places where bones had been broken.

"Isha, who did this—?"

He did. And he was doing it now... _enjoying_ doing it now.

"No, no, stop..."

He loved it, every minute. And she did, too. She was so obedient, submissive, so easy to control...

"Stop it stop it STOP IT!"

"Master," she whispered lovingly, staring up at him with blank, crystal eyes, swollen shut from bruises. Her hands ran over his chest, the fire not burning her...

"BASTARD!" Zak leapt to his feet, forcing the visions from his mind and re-packing his bag. "Yeah, cute trick, I'm gonna kill you, I know where you're hiding now, go ahead and blow your cover just to have some fun messing with me, eh?" Stumbling like a drunk from Ulrezaj's influence, he headed off in what he _knew_ was the appropriate direction, muttering to himself the whole way.

"I'm gonna kill you, you bastard. Would you like that? Oh, so you think you're immortal? Let's see what a bullet up your ugly ass thinks, buddy. Isha, it's okay, I'm coming, I'm gonna save you, don't listen to him, he's not your master..."

_Yes, come to me,_ Ulrezaj hissed, laughter behind its words. _Come, and see what your mate has become... see her as she rejects you._

The Dark Archon returned its attention to the broken form in his arms. Several new bruises showed where it clutched her too hard, and her legs were still around its waist as she moved and moaned and...

Smiling, he slammed into her again, its burning claws burying deep in her body. _Come…_

The "visions" were getting stronger... to the point where Zak almost forgot who he was. There were times when one would come, hit him unaware, and all of a sudden he'd have Isha and take her over and over and she'd smile the whole time and he loved it he loved it...

He thought he was Ulrezaj for a whole hour once. He bellowed orders at his non-existent minions, killed enemies that materialized out of nowhere, and brooded to himself about his grand mission and how the fools of the Khala would all pay...

And then he'd lose it, his consciousness overcompensating to break free of the alien presence. He'd lash out and rant and scream and start shooting at anything that moved and almost shot himself once...

When he wasn't relapsing or being tormented by Ulrezaj, he let the weapon take over. Operative 27 knew what to do. He honed in on Ulrezaj's power, tracking it, guiding Zak to his destination while distancing him from the hell he couldn't face.

The cycle repeated. Frequently.

Zachary Caldwell hadn't realized it yet, but he'd lost his mind. He'd barely been hanging on since his escape from the Program's hold, and now Ulrezaj had succeeded in tearing it from his feeble grasp. The only part of him that could still think realistically was the Ghost, and that would only last so long as the artificial connections in his brain stayed in place.

The Ghost's cold eyes scanned his surroundings, the sickening feeling in his mind and body threatening to make him vomit... again.

He was close. A cave yawned open just half a kilometer from his current location, and he could practically see the energy spilling forth from within it.

"Found you, bastard," he whispered, beginning to cross the remaining distance without hesitation.

He knew Ulrezaj could sense him, and frankly he didn't care. If the bastard decided to attack now, he knew he couldn't take it, but he didn't care. He knew he could die any minute now, but he didn't care.

He was going to kill Ulrezaj. Then he would save Isha. And if he couldn't...

Failure was not an option.


	10. Chapter 10

It was silent when he entered the cave. There were no Dark Templar about.

Ulrezaj was waiting.

He stood in the middle of the cavern, burninig eyes locked upon him even though he was cloaked, and smirked, one hand on a bruised, torn, broken Isha, who cowered back away from Zak the moment he entered.

_Zachary Caldwell,_ Ulrezaj mused, smiling chuckling. _Or is it Operative 27? No matter, no matter..._ Leaning down, the monster encircled Isha's waist and picked her up, pressing her against its chest. The psychic rage of its fire whipped around them savagely, doing no harm to the young woman. _Dare we say... you came for your mate?_

The Ghost decloaked, realizing it was useless to try to hide. "Yeah, and I'm gonna kick your ass, too."

He looked at Isha. It hurt so bad to see her like that...

"I don't know how much you're still there, but David misses you."

He pulled out his gun and fired.

The bullet stopped.

With a flick of its mind, the Archon flung it away. _And you still try to use those artificial means to destroy me..._ it shook its head, shifted Isha so she was resting comfortably against it, and struck.

Its mind tore through the Ghost's, ripping the circuitry to pieces.

Isha blinked. A memory—

_"David misses you."_

David?

_Hush, my pet...David is nothing but a phantom._

There was pain, unimaginable pain, as Zak felt something being forcefully ripped from him. Part of him was dying, falling away...

He screamed like he'd never screamed before.

Then the pain was gone, and everything was... remarkably clear.

His head snapped around and his cold, false eyes focused on Ulrezaj. He was going to kill the bastard. Kill it. Kill it! It'd be easy! He'd kill the bastard and Isha would be with him again and everything would be perfect.

He was still hunched over and breathing heavily from the attack, but a wicked, insane smile was spread across his face.

With a roar, he threw himself at his target, gun blazing and the air around him crackling with his own energy and rage.

Yelling. Screaming.

Bloodshed. Human blood.

Her Master...

_Master! Don't leave me! Don't leave me with him!_

Why did that sound wrong?

There were Protoss. Terrans. Screaming. Guns blazing. Warp-blades crackling. Isha fell to the ground, one ankle shattering. She cried out, curling into a small ball, whimpering as the sounds intensified around her.

Her Master's presence whirled, enraged, furious, hatred spewing from it in the red cloud of flame.

It subsided. Left her. Disappeared as the monster fled.

_No Master don't leave me..._

Zak, by some miracle, was still standing... sort of.

He was panting hard, his sweat, blood, and saliva all mingling together and running down his chest.

Everything was broken, bleeding, burned, ruptured, bruised... but his body had gone numb a while ago, so he didn't feel a thing.

He slid to the ground, using his rifle to stop himself at the knees. "Bastard ran away..." He coughed, spitting out blood, bile, and perhaps a tooth.

"Isha..." he rasped, his neck too sore to look at her. "You okay?"

Pain. Sudden, real pain.

She gasped and shuddered, the agony coming back full-force. She could feel every broken bone, every bruise, every gash that her Master had inflicted upon her. Every tear in her abdomen...

She heard a voice. A human voice. Something was familiar about that voice.

_Zak no I hate him no I love him Master Master please come back don't let him touch me don't let him use me David my baby just an illusion come back..._

She was picked up. Bone grated upon bone, and, too exhausted to scream, she simply passed out.

"Seriously, man. You need to lie down or something. Fuck, you're bleedin' everywhere—"

"Shut up!" Zak grimaced, shakily lifting Isha the rest of the way. "I can handle it!"

"If you wanna bleed to death! Here, let me carry her, you both need medical treatment now—"

"I said _shut up!_" Zak glared at the mercenary, his face set in a threatening growl. "Don't you touch her!"

"Whoah, okay, chill, man!" The soldier backed away, showing his palms in surrender.

Zak continued to glare at him, holding Isha close. He felt someone moving towards him, and spun around just in time to see a needle go into his arm.

The sedative's effect was instantaneous.

Lights... and... voices...

_She is healing rapidly._

"Duh, she got that 'Toss blood in her. What d'you think?"

_Do not try my patience, Terran._

"Ah, shut up."

Isha opened one aching eye. It was hard; it felt like a five-pound weight was tied to the eyelid...

"Hey, lookit that. Rise an' shine, sleeping beauty!"

Her eye opened all the way.

She screamed.

"I still don't get how you managed to stand..."

Zak hauled himself up, testing the leg braces. "I had to."

"Yeah, but it was physically impossible!"

"Not if you try hard enough."

"You're not listening. Both of your legs were _broken._ They couldn't have supported your weight!"

Zak stared at the medic, an eyebrow raised. "You sure?"

"Considering your knee could bend both ways, yeah..."

He smirked to himself, staring off into the distance. "What do you think of that, you bastard? Break me all over and I still kick your ass..."

The medic looked at him with his mouth half open, then cleared his throat. "Um... right. Well, anyway, since your Protoss buddies helped us out with the healing process and all, you can start physical therapy tod—"

"David's okay?"

"Who?"

"My kid. He's okay, right?"

The medic blinked several times. "I'm sorry, sir, but I didn't know you had a—"

Someone screamed.

"Isha!" Zak hobbled after the earsplitting sound, his braces barely slowing him down.

The medic sighed and shook his head. "All righty, then..."

Zak's entrance into Isha's room was quite dramatic.

"Isha! Are you okay? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"Oy, mistuh! Get back ta yer bed!"

Isha screamed again. Her fear, hatred, and sense of terrible loss slammed into Zak, threatening to knock him over.

"Isha, it's okay, I'm here, nobody's gonna hurt you—"

"Get AWAY! I HATE you!" Tears squeezed out from under Isha's swollen eyelids, her weak arms flopping pathetically at an attempt to keep him away. "Oh, Master, where are you? Come back! He's going to kill you!"

Zak stood motionless, utterly stunned. "Isha..."

_She has been like this since we recovered her. Ulrezaj's hold on her was especially powerful._

"MASTER! MASTER! THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!"

He choked, his faced getting hot. "But... but it's gone... it can't..."

_You of all people should know minds can be altered, Terran._

"No, no, it couldn't..." He stared at the struggling Isha, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Not her. She's too strong for that..."

Isha sobbed and hiccupped uncontrollably. "M-mas-s-ster... p-pleas-se..."

Zak could see her thoughts clearly. He knew he was wrong.

"Could you guys... just... leave for a minute? I need to talk to her."

_You will not find out anything you don't already know, Terran._

"Just _leave!_"

An empty beaker shattered. The medical staff stared at it, glanced nervously at each other, and exited without a word.

With significant effort, he pulled up a chair next to Isha's bed. "Hey, Isha," he said softly, slowly reaching out a hand...

Isha swiped at him, her long, jagged nails cutting into his flesh. "Get away! Get away get away get away! Master! Please...!"

But her Master didn't come. Her wonderful Master who loved her wasn't here... and the monster 27 was! He was going to hurt her! Hurt her and rape her and... and...

"Get away from me," she sobbed, curling near the headboard. "Please, no, don't hurt me..."

Zak quickly pulled his hand away. "Isha..."

He could barely look at her. It was wrong, so wrong...

"I wasn't..." He stopped. She was afraid of the sound of his own voice.

_I wasn't going to hurt you, Isha. I was just making sure you were okay. You know I can't stand to see you hurt._

Isha shook her head. "That's a lie! It's a lie! You're lying! Get away from me!"

His face was twisted in grief. It looked so real, but Isha knew it was all a lie, that she would be hurt and raped as soon as she let her guard down, and even though she hadn't yet.

"Please! No! You're lying! Master! Come back..."

_Listen to me, Isha!_ Zak's "voice" was harsh with frustration. _Do you think I'd haul my ass halfway across the galaxy and then get it kicked by some flaming alien bastard just to _rape_ you!?_ He grabbed her hand as it swung at him again, effectively stopping it from slicing his throat open. _How many times did I save your life, Isha? How many times did I almost die for you?_

He was crying, and fought hard against it to stop. But it wasn't there, the control wasn't there, it was gone, dead...

_Ulrezaj never asked if you were okay, did he? He never said "I'm sorry" for anything, either. And he sure as hell never said "I love you."_

Her other hand grabbed for his chest, claws bared. He stopped that one, too, his grip gentle enough not to hurt her but still preventing an attack.

"I'm sorry, Isha," he choked out between sobs. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me. Come on, Isha, stay with me! David needs you! _I_ need you, Isha! Don't leave me now, please! Not after all we've been through!"

He let go of her hands, and for a moment his eyes didn't look like iced-over cameras.

"Isha... I love you."

No, he was lying, he was...

But he was crying. And his hands were gentle. And she was in a medical center, not a brig or something like that—

_Lies! You know how he's so deceptive; it's all a lie..._

David. David, the baby... her baby.

_Just an illusion._

"Prove it," she choked. "Show me David."

Zak leapt to his feet, eager at the chance to bring Isha back. "Okay, I'll get him. Hold on, okay?" He hobbled away, his right leg being noticeably less cooperative than his left.

"Hey," he said to the first person he came across, panting with the effort of running so much. "Can you get David?"

The woman blinked. "Who?"

"David, my son. His mother wants to see him and..."

It was obvious the woman had no idea what he was talking about.

"Never mind. I'll go find him myself."

He reached out with his mind. _Nag?_

_Ah! Who is—oh, Zak, sir!_

_David's with you?_

_He is asleep._

_Could you bring him here, please?_

_Of course._

In moments, the young Protoss came bounding down the hallway, the baby in his arms.

"Thanks," Zak said, scooping up the child and darting back into Isha's room.

_What, that's it? So that's all you wanted? No thank you or care to join me or... Gods curse you..._

"See?" Zak whispered softly, presenting the baby to Isha. "He's missed you, Isha. Davey, wake up. Mommy's back."

Her eyes widened. Her hands immediately went to cup the baby's small, fragile body.

David wriggled and yawned loudly, then opened his eyes. The effect was immediate. He beamed, showing a gap-toothed mouth, and held out his pudgy arms. His joy at seeing his mother was plain as his fingers touched her face.

"Take him," she croaked, thrusting him to Zak.

Her baby. Her sweet David. How could she have forgotten him?

"I... I need to be alone. Please. Please go."

Zak opened his mouth, closed it, and nodded once, his neck too sore to repeat the motion.

"Come on, Davey. Mommy's tired."

Cradling his son in his arms, he limped away, leaving Isha to her thoughts.

Isha curled into herself, shaking. Her baby, her David...

He loved his father, and it was plain that Zak loved him. What was going on? She _knew_ Zak had beaten and raped her. She _knew_ it, it was in her memories; any and every feeling she had for him was all betrayal and fear and hate and...

She lay there, growing more and more confused. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. All she knew was a lie? No, it couldn't have been...

_Tap tap tap._

Isha's head lifted to stare at the door, where someone was lightly knocking. She said nothing, but the door opened anyway.

_Young one,_ Zeratul murmured, gliding in and standing by the side of her bed.

Isha shook her head and sobbed. "No... go away, please..."

_Please, little one, listen. Listen to me._

Zak closed his eyes, waiting outside the door and listening on the conversation.

"Da!" David squeaked, tapping his father's chest with his palm.

He rustled the baby's hair. "Shh. Quiet for a minute, okay?"

"It's not true!"

_It is, little one. Explain why none of your memories about me were altered._

"Zak hates you because you protect me!"

_He is nervous about me, yes. Then again, who is not? You were terrified of me the first day we met, remember, because I am a _Dark Templar.

"S-S-So?"

_Why were you afraid of Dark Templar?_

"I d-don't know!"

_Yes you do._

Isha fell silent. Biting her lip, her broken hands twisted the covers. He was right... she had been afraid of him because she had been afraid of Dark Templar. Because her Master had once been a Dark Templar. But... it made no sense...

_Dark Archons, for that is what he is called, have a certain specialty of taking over minds. Of warping memories._

With a low sob, she nodded. She knew that. How she knew, she didn't know.

Zeratul gently squeezed her shoulder. _Sleep now; heal._ His hand brushed her forehead, and she immediately closed her eyes. _Rest your tired mind._

He stood, preparing to leave.

Isha's voice followed him sleepily. "Wan'... my baby..."

_I will see to it._

Zeratul stepped out into the hall. _You were listening?_

"Yeah." Zak stood, grunting with the effort, and handed Zeratul David. "She wants to see him."

Zeratul took the baby, his green eyes studying Zak carefully. _And you will not bring him to her?_

"She doesn't want to talk to me right now."

_Understood._ Zeratul bowed his head, then called to Nag'Jihn.

_Yes?_

_Take David to Isha._

The Protoss boy crossed his arms and rolled his sun-colored eyes. _Alas, more errands... Wait, Isha?_

_Yes._

_Gods be praised!_ He excitedly scooped David up and darted into the room. _Miss Isha! It is good you are back! Everyone was so worried, especially your mate, and... Oh, here, you wanted to see David..._

Gently, Nag'Jihn deposited the boy in her arms.

_You are... "okay?"_

Isha nodded sleepily, taking the baby from him. David immediately nestled against her chest, happy to be with his mother again. "Mmfine..."

Her eyes closed.

The braces were off.

Zak swung his legs, frowning when he noticed the right was lagging a bit behind.

"Well, it's an almost total recovery..."

"Except for the permanent limp."

"If you want, I could—"

"No thanks. It's my fault it's there, so I'll live with it."

The medic shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Zak stood, wobbly at first without the help of the braces, but he quickly adapted. He walked twice around the room. "Not that bad. Just can't put all my weight on it."

"Right. Now all we've gotta do is—hey, where d'you think you're going?!"

Zak didn't answer. He headed out the door and made a beeline for Nag'Jihn and David. "Daddy's back," he announced.

"Da! Dadadada..." David turned around, excitement in his chubby face. He tottered over to his father, then promptly fell back and sat down half way.

"Oh, look at you! You're better at it than I am!"

_That is his first time,_ Nag'Jihn said, a bit of pride in his thoughts.

He scooped David up, kissing his round little belly. "Come on, I'll bet Mommy will be happy to see us both walking."

David waved his arms happily, babbling and patting his father's nose.

"How's she doing?" Zak asked the healer standing outside Isha's room.

_Better. Physically, she's fine, although still a bit weak._

"And mentally?"

_She is still under considerable influence, but a full recovery is expected._

"When?"

_I am not sure. Her recovery is a matter of her will to accept the truth._

"She's a tough kid..." Zak sighed, brushing David's hand away from his hair. "Can I see her?"

_If you so wish, but do not expect a warm welcome..._

"Believe me, I don't." He stepped past the healer and into the room. "Hey, Isha."

"Mamamamama!" Giggling, David reached for her, and after a moment of hesitation Isha took him, kissing his cheek. "Hey, baby," she murmured, stroking his fine black hair.

Her eyes went to Zak. "Hi... Zak."

It was so strange. He was gazing at her with so much love, even through those dead gray eyes of his. But she could clearly remember him raping her, beating her...

Or could she? It had all become confused and foggy. Now, she could also remember lying with Zak, kissing him on that cramped bunk on the _Hyperion..._

Zak kept his distance, sensing Isha's nervousness. "They said you're getting better. You've been eating enough, right?"

He scratched his head, staring at the floor. "Um... David took his first steps, today... I wish you could've seen it..." His lips tugged into a crooked smile. "He's growing up pretty fast, isn't he?"

A slight smile matched his. "He is."

David stuck his thumb in his mouth, his other hand tugging lightly on her hair. Smiling, she set him on her stomach. "You are, aren't you, big boy?"

"Ma," he crooned.

"That's right."

"Da!"

She hesitated, then nodded. "Da's right... right there."

"MaDa. DaMa."

Shaking her head in bemusement, Isha glanced up at Zak. "How... are you doing?"

"Better. Braces finally came off, and my legs are doin' great..." He shrugged, knowing his limp was rather obvious. "Mostly, anyway. But don't worry about me. David's enough trouble, and you've got your own problems..."

Isha shrugged, turning her head aside.

"27... Zak... you're telling the truth, aren't you?"

Zak blinked. "About what?"

Her eyes answered his question.

"Yeah. It's true, Isha."

She nodded, stroking David's smooth skin. She loved to just touch her son, touch him and hold him and kiss him and...

"Show me." She smiled, slightly strained, and gestured for Zak to step back, then pushed herself to an upright position and put David on the floor. "Walk to Daddy, David."

Zak squatted down (the motion a bit slower than usual) and smiled at David. "Come on, Davey."

David beamed, waddled, made it halfway, then plopped down on his rump, giggling.

"Hey, good job!" Zak closed the rest of the distance, tickling the baby under his arms and on his belly. The child howled with laughter.

"Yeah, who's a big boy? Who's my big boy, huh?"

Isha stared. Zak obviously loved his child. It was a breathtaking sight to behold. The monster that had beaten her, nearly killed her, raped her, was now—

No. No! He didn't. He was kind. They had laid together, the first time on the _Hyperion,_ and then on Char several times, and... on the _Gantrithor..._ in Tassadar's quarters...

She remembered how they laughed together; how painful it was to not be able to see each other... and when Isha had the baby, Zak came to her and held her hand and—

Isha bent over, gasping, her true memories breaking through and ripping the others away. No, no, her Master... her Master had tortured since she was four years old, killed her parents and made her kill other people and the little boy and then she had been thrown into the dirt and Zak had found her and they had fallen in love...

She passed out as her mind coped with the warping of memories.

"Isha!" Zak leapt to his feet, stumbled, swore, and ran over to her, his hands on her shoulders. He felt the storm inside her mind, and could not brace himself against it.

"Come on, Isha. Pull through for me, baby..."

David whimpered.

Zak let go of Isha, letting her head fall in his lap. "Shh, it's okay, David." He bent down to pick the boy up, holding him on one arm and placing the other on Isha's head.

"Somebody get--" he began to shout, but stopped himself. What could anyone do? The best thing would be to just wait, and be there for her when she woke back up.

David made a small, frightened noise, then buried his head in his father's shoulder.

"It's okay, David. Mommy's gonna be okay."

When she finally awoke, Isha was soaked with sweat. Her breathing was irregular and her eyes rolled around their sockets, panicked.

Her Master.

How he had warped her.

What Zak had to go through.

"Zak," she sobbed, and grabbed him, pressing her face into his other shoulder. "Zak, Zak, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"Shh, it's okay..." He gently rubbed her back, his head over her shoulder to hide the fact that he was crying again.

"We've been through this kind of thing before, anyway. But you're back now, so that's all that matters..."

"Ma!" David squeaked, reaching out for his mother.

"Come here, big boy," Isha whispered, pulling him to her. "My big baby boy."

"Ma!"

"I love you both." She snuggled against Zak's chest, cradling her son against them. David clapped his hands, joyful that his Mommy was happy again. Isha kissed his smooth forehead, then turned to kiss Zak. "I love you."

_Love you, too,_ he mentally replied, too busy with his lips to speak verbally. _Always._

They parted, and he ruffled David's fine hair. "Daddy loves you, too!"

David squealed happily, firmly grabbing Zak's finger.

They were happy, all three of them. Zak wished they could be happy forever.

And he wished they could go somewhere where they could be human.

Now that her memories were in place, Isha's recovery went much faster. Soon she could walk again, and gained weight at a rapid pace.

The war dragged on. They heard of Kerrigan, of Aldaris, of the Overmind and the Dominion, of the UED and everything else... but they couldn't care less. They were busy raising their child.

Nag'Jihn and David were very close, and soon were getting into trouble together. Nag'Jihn always seemed to be able to find something to teach the little boy, and David loved every minute of it. Zak and Isha were constantly getting them out of trouble with the Dark Templar and the Khalai, who patiently tolerated them and watched with bemusement.

Xan'Iir came to visit one day.

_I have news of a planet... possibly a new home._

"A home?" Zak stood, David tugging at his pant leg.

Xan'Iir nodded. _A small town, on a planet you Terrans call "Bountiful." A good place to raise a child, and..._ she paused, and lowered her "voice" a little. _I would like you to bring Nag'Jihn with you. It's much safer then here, with the Dark Templar and the Zerg..._

Isha chuckled. Xan'Iir's paranoia about the Dark Templar was quite amusing.

_But, Mother!_ Nag'Jihn stood, somewhat panicked. _I can fight! There are still Zerg out there, and I'm almost finished with my warrior's training—_

Xan'Iir shook her head, patting her son on her shoulder. _You no longer need do as was originally expected of you, my little one. Besides, I feel you will be happier amongst your friends._

_But what about—_

_Hush. As long as our will survives, so shall our people._

_I don't..._ Nag'Jihn looked away. He wanted to go, he felt he belonged with the Terran family, but he couldn't just _leave..._

Zak cleared his throat. "Okay, so... You mean, we can go..."

_If you so desire._

"And there'll be other... and David can..."

_To all of your questions, the answer is yes._

Zak shut his mouth, then bent down to pick David up. "This is... pretty crazy... Isha, what do you think?"

Isha beamed at him, leaning over to kiss him. "I think it's wonderful, Zak. It's a place where David will grow up, happy."

She paused and looked up at the Executrix. "I will have a full supply of the drug to fulfill both our needs, right?"

Xan'Iir sighed, nodding. _Taking the average Terran lifespan into account, there should be enough... if you don't abuse it._

Zak was barely able to contain himself. "So... wait, it's a colonial world, right? How do we get there?"

_The Dark Templar have agreed to transport you there in secrecy. Preparations have already been made, and you may leave as soon as you feel ready. It will be up to you to secure a suitable dwelling place and gets yourselves settled._

"Really? Great! Hey, could you hold on for a sec?" He deposited the growing David in Isha's arms and planted a quick kiss on both their foreheads. "I'll be right back."

He ran outside, and his whoop for joy could be clearly heard by all.

Xan'Iir smiled slightly, then gestured to Nag'Jihn. _My son, come here._

He approached her slowly, staring at the floor. _Mother, I can't—_

_What do you want to do, my son? What does your soul tell you?_

_I... I want to, I really do—_

_Then go. The will of our people is still strong, and you will soon come of age. Your path is yours alone to choose, my son._

_But what would I do?_

_Other than your contact with the Caldwells, you will stay hidden, and perhaps hone your skills as a warrior. If you ever wish to come back, we will wait for you. There are many things you still have to learn, and this experience can teach you them._

Nag'Jihn nodded, then threw his arms around the Executrix. _Thank you, Mother. I shall miss you, and all the others..._

_You aren't leaving yet. Go bid them farewell, and get ready to leave._

Nag'Jihn withdrew and, with a gracious bow, darted away.

Xan'Iir followed him with her amethyst eyes, then turned to Isha. _So much has changed since we first met... I hope you forgive me for my previous behavior. I was rather... naive, disrespectful, and I'm afraid a bit cruel..._

Isha looked down, wincing at the memory of Xan'Iir's angry eyes watching their every turn. She shrugged. "It's not your fault. To you Protoss, I'm afraid we're nothing but... well, animals..." She glanced back up. "And after seeing my own kind, I can't help but agree."

Xan'Iir chuckled slightly. _I'm glad we can agree on something._ She sat down next to the Terran woman. _But still, there are thing I have come to admire. Your resourcefulness, your determination to survive, your improvisation... In short, not as worthless as many of my kind first thought. Here, can I see him?_ She reached out for David, touching his head lightly.

_He's strong... I heard you sang at his birth, and the Dark Templar, Zeratul, blessed him..._

Isha smiled proudly, disposing David on Xan'Iir's lap for her inspection. David stared up at her open-mouthed, large hazel eyes wide. "That I did. And Zeratul gave us—well, him—a piece of earth for him to remember his birthplace." She pointed to the cloth on the table.

_It's an old tradition of his Tribe,_ Xan'Iir answered, picking up David and smiling at him. _You're going to be very strong when you come of age, aren't you? I wonder if you will be as much trouble as your parents were._

David giggled, tugging at Xan'Iir's robes with one hand.

Isha pouted, giving Xan'Iir a look. "We weren't _that_ much trouble."

Xan'Iir chuckled. _I believe the healers would disagree. And the Executor—_ She cut herself off, staring at the floor.

Isha winced, stroking her son's hair. "I miss him too," she murmured, surprised at how much it was true.

_There are too many casualties in this struggle,_ Xan'Iir said bitterly. _How many of them were necessary? How many could have been saved by the correction of a single mistake?_

The female Protoss shook her head, handing David back to Isha. _Alas, looking backward is always clearer. I bid you and your family farewell, Isha._

"Thank you, Executrix," she replied, giving her a small smile. David waved, smiling, at the disappearing Protoss.

Again, it did not take long for them to pack. In the air was excitement—excitement of a new life. David caught it, and was soon bouncing with happiness, and several times Zak swung Isha around and kissed her, for no apparent reason.

Then they were on the Shuttle, heading to their new home.

Nag'Jihn seemed distant during the journey. Zak tapped the young Protoss's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

_I'm praticing._

"For what?"

_The life of a hermit._

Zak snorted. "Liar." He gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "It's okay to miss 'em. Hell, I'll admit I'll miss Talidor and his kids. Maybe even Zeratul, too. Not as much as Isha will, but..."

Nag'Jihn smiled slightly. _You've been waiting for this your whole life, haven't you?_

Zak beamed. "Every damn second." He moved over to Isha and kissed her (again).

"Know what to expect?" he asked her, making no effort to contain his excitement.

"Not a clue," she laughed, leaning against him. "But I wonder what they will think of you, Naggy. Here, hold David for a while, will you?"

_Me?_ "Naggy" gathered up David in his arms, hastily flicking his free nerve cords over his shoulder to keep them away from the child's grasping hands. _Hopefully, they won't know I'm there at all. That's the plan, anyway. I'm going to stay in the mountains, and continue my training as a warrior. I'll visit you frequently, of course._

"So it has mountains?" Zak wrapped his arms loosely around Isha, his eyes on Nag'Jihn.

_I believe so. Where you are going is a settlement close to a... whatever you Terrans have instead of Warp Gates... and it's surrounded by mining outposts and water sources. It's warmer than Shakuras, for most of the year, anyway, and the gravity should be comfortable._

Leaning over, Isha kissed his cheek. "I'm glad you'll visit. David loves you, you know."

David smiled and grabbed Nag'Jihn's nerve-cord.

If Protoss could blush, Nag'Jihn would be beet red.

_Erm, thank you, Miss Isha—OW!_ He batted David's hand away. _Stop that!_

"Naggy!" David squeaked, reaching out again.

_Oh, no! Don't you call me that, too!_

"Naggy! Naggy!"

Zak chuckled and shook his head, nestling Isha a bit closer. "I don't know what to do with those two..."

"They'll grow up to be brothers, I think," Isha murmured, kissing him. "They quarrel like them already."

She glanced at Nag'Jihn. "But I'm worried. David will grow up and die long before Naggy will..."

"Don't think about that!" snapped Zak and Nag'Jihn simultaneously.

The Shuttle's engines quieted.

"We're here," Zak whispered breathlessly. He was the first to jump outside. They were surrounded by rocky, yet vegetated terrain, and the air was cool and sweet. Mountain peaks jutted up from the landscape around them, and in the distance—Zak squinted his eyes to be sure—was a settlement.

"That's it."

Isha clutched his arm. "Where will we live? What will we live in? Oh, Zak, look at this place! But where will we live? In the mountains, I hope... but what will we live _in?_ Will they just give us a house?"

"Xan'Iir said it'd be up to us to get settled, but don't worry. We'll figure it out." Zak smiled at her, shouldering the pack that contained their few belongings. "Hell, we've made it through everything else, this'll be a piece of cake."

The Dark Templar vessel had vanished, its takeoff silent and unnoticed. Leaving Nag'Jihn and the small family of Terrans...

To walk. It wasn't that far, but none of them had been prepared for the trek. More than once, Nag'Jihn volunteered to carry their things or David, and even went as far as to try and carry Isha at one point, but the offer was soundly refused.

They were just outside the city limits when Nag'Jihn said his goodbye. He handed David over to Isha, then the Protoss boy bowed and disappeared, promising to find them and visit.

_Good luck, farewell, and Adun be with you!_

"Good-bye," Isha called, waving after him, then smiled up at Zak. "Ready?"

"Ready."

They entered the city. They were openly stared at, the strange, delicate being next to the cold-eyed man, and the boy held by the woman. But they weren't stopped, and they did not stop until they entered a hotel.

Isha smiled at the thought. It was a hotel that she and Zak had gone that day... "Remember?" she whispered to her mate.

Zak put an arm around her, smiling off into the distance. "Yeah... Seems like another lifetime, doesn't it?" He looked over his shoulder at the big sign near the city limits.

WHITERIVER WELCOMES YOU

"Let's hope they're as welcoming as they advertise," he muttered.

They weren't.

"Look, I don't have any money right _now..._"

"Then you don't stay."

"Just one night! Come on, we've come all this way..."

"I'm sorry, but I've had a million people come in here with sob stories, and more than half were freeloaders and miscreants. It's not you, it's just..."

Zak sighed, tapping the desk. "Yeah, we kinda came outta nowhere, no ID, pretty suspicious, I get the picture." He looked over his shoulder. "Isha..."

Isha looked up at him with tired eyes. "I get it, I understand..." she glanced at the man at the desk. "Is... is there another hotel around here? I really need to get off my feet."

The man shifted his weight. "I—there—"

David whined, tugging at his mother's clothes.

"Oh, David," Isha murmured, pulling his fingers away. "I know baby..." she looked at him again. "Please? You won't even know we're here. One night, and we'll be gone. I just really need somewhere to rest... and David here is so, _so_ tired..."

The man's mouth opened, then closed. He threw up his hands. "All right."

"Thank you!" Zak shouldered his bag again and took the room card. "I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

"As long as there isn't any—"

"There won't be any trouble." He gestured to Isha. "Come on, you and David need some shut eye."

David was asleep almost immediately when he curled up against the pillows of the single bed. Isha sat next to him tiredly, brushing away his fast-growing hair.

"Zak?"

"Mm?"

Lying down, she snuggled next to their son. "Love you..."

A minute later and she was asleep.

"Love you, too," he whispered, kissing her forehead. He closed his eyes...

And waited for about a half hour, then got up and double-checked that both mother and child were asleep. He sat down at the desk in the corner, and his fingers began to fly above the keyboard of the small computer. He didn't remember everything from his training, but he could improvise when necessary.

After a few hours of tacking keys and hushed curses, the Caldwells were officially a family, with adequate records and a bit of cash to boot. He crawled back into bed, satisfied with his handiwork.

Tomorrow, their new lives would begin.

David woke them both up with his cries.

Peeking one eye open, Isha smelled urine and feces, and sighed, propping her head on her hand. "C'mere, Davey... Zak, c'mon..."

Zak groaned. "Why is it always first thing in the morning?" He sat up, rubbing his brow and wrinkling his nose. "Ugh, smell that. Thank you, David." He picked the child up and took him into the bathroom, then returned with him in a few minutes.

"Your turn next time," he grumbled, handing David off to Isha and flopping back into bed.

"Up," she said, chuckling, leaning over to kiss him. "I know. Up."

"Up!" David mimicked, waving his arms.

Isha put him on the bed, worked herself around Zak, and pounced on him. "Up!"

Zak squeaked and jumped to his feet. "Okay, okay, I'm up!" He looked at Isha, sighed, and shook his head.

"Jeez... All right, fine... Morning, honey." He kissed Isha briefly. "Okay, officially awake. Gonna get breakfast..."

"'Gain," David yelled, clapping his pudgy hands. "'Gain!"

"Later," Isha replied, picking him up and kissing his cheek. "Food, first. Zak, don't forget to pay that nice man. He's been through so much..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll pay him..." He waved over his shoulder, yawning as he trudged into the lobby.

"Found my ID," he announced to the clerk. "Goin' out to get money. Pay you when I get back."

The clerk raised an eyebrow from behind a book. "Okay..."

An hour passed, then Zak came back carrying a bag and a wad of cash. He put the money down on the counter. "That should be the right amount. You take paper, right?"

The clerk leaned forward. "You didn't steal this, did you?"

"No." Zak went back to the room, cursing his leg for slowing him down on the stairs.

"I'm back," he announced, dumping the sack on a table. "Breakfast is served."

They were out of the hotel in a flash, after eating, getting dressed, and a quick round of sex in the bathroom when David was dozing off.

"Where now?" Isha asked, David in her arms as they walked along. "Getting a house? Do we have enough money for even that?"

"Probably not," Zak answered, glancing around. "Gonna need a job..."

House-hunting took most of the day. They finally settled on a small, yet comfortable and resilient home at the foot of the mountains. At one point, the tiny building had been a prefab shelter, but the previous owners (as well as the realtor) had done significant work to fix it up. It had four rooms: two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a comparatively large space in the center that tripled as a kitchen, dining room, and living room. There was some furniture (but not much) and working heat, cooling, power, and running water.

"We're probably the last place in the galaxy that uses hydro-electric power," the realtor commented, "but it works like a dream. There's a big dam off thataway, and we get all our power from there. No fumes, no digging for gas... It's an old method they used to use on Earth, you know..."

Zak and the realtor had soon worked out a deal. Zak had (leeched) enough money to pay for about a third, and he promised to pay the rest off within the next two years. Ex-prefab shelters were remarkably cheap.

"So, what do you think?" he asked Isha before the deal was set in stone.

Isha was in heaven. They had a home, they had a house, they had a baby, they were peaceful and happy, and...

She clung to Zak's arm. "Oh, Zak, it's... it's _perfect._"

"Glad you think so." Zak gave her a small kiss, and the deal was set.

In a few hours, they were settled in. In celebration, Zak and Isha had attempted to cook a feast. The only thing they were successful in was noodles.

"I'm going over to the plant tomorrow," Zak said over a mouthful of pasta. "I think they're looking for a few men. Heard the pay's not half bad."

David squealed happily for no reason, picking up a fistful of his mother's noodles and flinging them on the table.

Isha frowned (trying not to laugh) and picked David up from the table. "That's enough, David."

He cried and carried on, but she put him on the floor where they could watch him and cleaned up the food. "It seems so strange. You're looking for a job. _You._"

Getting up, David attempted to totter over to his mother, only succeeding in half the distance. He pouted, sitting once again on the floor.

"Yeah. But it's kind of my responsibility now. No more freeloading off rebels and aliens." He watched David's performance, chuckled, and shook his head.

"Don't look so upset about it," he told his son, smiling warmly. "You've got a couple of years to go before those stubby little legs of yours are big enough for you."

Isha reached over and patted David on the head. "If you weren't a bad boy, you wouldn't have to sit on the floor."

He pouted some more.

"Yes, I know, I'm so horribly mean. Zak, should I get a job?"

Zak sighed, resting his chin on his hand. "I don't know... Honestly, I'd prefer it if you'd stay here to look after David, but if you think it would help... Problem is, I don't know what you'd do."

She looked down and bit her lip. He was right; she was useless. "Then I'll stay here."

"You're not useless," Zak said reflexively, unconsciously talking back to her thoughts. "David's gonna need somebody to look after him if I'm gone all day, and I'd prefer it if I knew where the two of you were." He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. "I'm still a little paranoid."

He stood up, picking up the pouting David. "You look like you're ready for bed, mister."

Isha smiled slightly. Well, she was paranoid, too. Before when she thought she was safe, she had been... shivering, she pushed the thought out of her head and followed Zak into David's new bedroom.

She decided to take a bath, and slipped into the warm water, staring off into space. It still seemed like a dream... they had a house. She felt like she was actually a part of a nuclear family, which she was...

Unfortunately, her last nuclear family had been slaughtered.

Zak had finally gotten David settled, and the child was sleeping peacefully. He patted his son's cheek and whispered goodnight.

On his way to his own bed, he stopped outside the bathroom door. "Hey, Isha. Do me a favor and think happy thoughts."

Isha opened one eye. "I will if you join me."

Zak rolled his eyes, pushing the door open. "Okay, you win." He flipped the toilet lid down and perched on the seat, misinterpreting Isha's call to join her on purpose, if for no other reason than to annoy the hell out of her.

"I'm serious, though. We're starting a new life here. You don't need to dwell on the past."

With a sigh she sat up, swishing the water. "I can't, Zak. And you know that. Last time I tried, he found me. I'll never forget, and I'll never stop thinking about him. Because when I tried to be normal, when I tried to settle down, I was found. Now come in the water."

With an over-dramatic sigh, Zak began to strip. "That tub's pretty small..."

"The bunk was smaller."

He shook his head, sliding in next to her. "Shit... Told you it was small." He raised an eyebrow. "Promise you'll forget him for at least two minutes?"

She snuggled against him. "If you make me."

He gave her a crooked smile, running a hand through her wet hair. "Typical."

He was up early the next morning, quickly getting himself ready to go to the power plant.

"Wha?"

Isha looked down at her son, smiling as he stared up at her open-mouthed. "Wha what?"

He pointed to an unfurling yellow flower, wide-eyed. "Wha?"

"That's a flower, Davey."

"Fowwer?"

"You got it."

He reached out to gently touch the petals. "Fowwer!"

She was surprised to see how tender he was towards it. "What color is it, David?"

The boy stared at it for a minute, then pointed. "Pink!"

"No," she laughed. "It's yellow."

"Pink!"

"Yellow."

"Pi—NAGGY!"

Nag'Jihn smiled at David. _Hello, foster brother. What color am I?_

"Gween!" David cried excitedly, hugging his leg.

_Good job._ He scooped him up. _Did you miss me?_

David giggled happily.

Nag'Jihn smiled at the child, then looked up at Isha. _Hello, Miss Isha. I trust you have been faring well?_

Isha nodded, standing up and brushing herself off. "Quite well." She beamed and pointed to the house. "We have our own lives, Nag'Jihn. We have a _house._"

_I can see that._ He smiled in return, gazing at the building. _You are very lucky._

"What about you? Have you found a good place to stay hidden?"

The young Protoss shrugged. _Well, up in the mountains, I've found a little spring. It's quite secluded, so I believe I am safe. As for my shelter..._ He grinned sheepishly. _I made myself one out of sticks and mud, with the occasional animal hide, if I can get one. I don't go out hunting; a few big ones tried to eat me. You should come see it sometime._

She nodded again. "You know... you _can_ sleep here. You don't have to live in the elements all the time. It's not like people are going to visit; we're a ways out from the city."

Nag'Jihn nodded, placing David on the ground. _Your offer is an appreciated one, but I don't think I could stay here all the time. Just in case I was discovered, you know? Our people still have pretty shaky relations._

He grinned, a bit of pride in his thoughts. _Besides, I'm living how my ancestors once did. I consider it an honor._

She closed her eyes, stroking her baby's hair, and nodded. "As you wish. But if you ever need to..." she trailed off, and stood, holding David in her arms.

The sun felt wonderful on her skin. After months with the Dark Templar, and weeks with her Master in that cave, it was welcome warmth.

Zak, she knew, would get his job. He knew how to please the boss, being telepathic, and was no stranger to work. So he wouldn't come home until late.

In the meantime, she had a baby to raise. Perhaps later she would get a job when she knew what she could do.

First Zak had to wait. Then he had to fill out a résumé (he made a few things up) and wait some more. Then they took him "upstairs" and did some more waiting. Then he talked with a supervisor and waited for him to come back. Then he signed half a million forms, then waited for someone to check them over. Then they went downstairs, showed him around, and had him try out some of the machinery (they commented him on being a fast learner). And then, finally, they gave him a bluish-gray uniform and asked when he could work.

After a couple hours trying out his new job at the power plant (where a fellow employee wondered whether he'd been through a war or something, to which Zak replied "pretty much"), he finally went home, with instructions to come back tomorrow morning ("shaved and trimmed," one supervisor commented. "You look like a homeless guy with that hair.")

"I'm back," he announced tiredly upon entering his home. "I got the job."

Isha had taught herself how to cook bread in the hours he was away. It wasn't half bad, either—David clapped his hands and shouted "More!" each time he was done with a slice—and had gone down to the city to buy a few easy-to make things to fill their cabinets. Dinner was macaroni, bread, and fruit ("Not the sweet kind," she assured him).

"How was your first day?" she murmured to him as they sat on the couch together. David was already asleep in his crib, and they had a while to just sit and relax.

"Not bad," Zak commented, finishing up his last slice of bread.

"What, the job or the food?"

"The job. The food's excellent."

"Don't eat it all. Save some for David." Isha snuggled against him. "Tell me about work."

"It's interesting. Operated a forkloader for the first time in my life. People are nice, but one of 'em kept staring at my ass. The other guys told him to knock it off, though. Apparently, he does that to everybody. Don't worry about it."

"Well, as long as he doesn't make a move on you," Isha muttered, scowling.

"Relax."

"If you relax."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"How am I not relaxed?"

"You're paranoid."

"Wait, what?"

Isha giggled and hit him with a pillow.

Zak removed the pillow from his face. "I'm paranoid because you throw things at me," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. He chucked it lightly back at her, grinning. "If you don't cut that out, I'm gonna lose it."

"That's what I'm counting on," she laughed, tossing at him again. Then, when he went to catch it, hit him with another.

"Hey, that was cheap!" Zak leaned forward, dropping the pillows and gently grabbing Isha's wrists.

"Ha! Now you can't throw any more." He leaned in further, kissed her quickly, and drew back, grinning broadly. "I win."

"Indeed you did." She crawled up to snuggle against his shoulder. "Indeed you did."

"Yeah?" Zak said softly, his lips in her hair, hands moving up her arms until they rested on her back. "Then I guess you won't be so cocky next time, huh?"

Opening one eye, she smiled at him. "I'll always be able to get you off-guard."

"Just full of surprises, aren't you?" Zak shifted until both of them were lying down...

And they rolled off the couch, laughing.

"C'mon, Daddy! You're too slow!"

Zak rolled his eyes. "I'm coming, I'm coming..."

Isha leaned back, watching the two boys run. Nag'Jihn stood at her side, slightly taller then he was so very long ago.

They had accustomed to their new life perfectly. David had grown up so fast... as soon as they could enroll him in school, they did, leaving Isha free to work at a convenience store.

"Careful," she called. "No scraped knees from either of you!"

David laughed loudly, slowing down just enough for his father to catch up. "Race you home, Dad!"

Zak rubbed his leg. "Nah, you go ahead."

"Aw, come on!"

Zak looked back at Isha, then shrugged. "Okay." Before his son could react, he was already running.

"Hey, that's cheating!" David shouted after him.

"Hurry it up, or I'm gonna win!"

"Nuh-uh! You cheated!"

Nag'Jihn watched them chase after each other. _They are quite the pair..._ He looked to Isha, his head bowed slightly. _Thank you for coming to visit me. I apologize for my home being so crude..._

Leaning over, Isha kissed his cheek. "I think it's wonderful, Naggy. Not crude at all. Gives a sense of nature." She smiled and tugged his tunic straight. "How is your training going?"

"Daddyyyyyyyyyyy! Leggo! Eeeeee!"

Nag'Jihn quickly re-scruffed his tunic. _It is going well,_ he replied. _I think by the time I come of age, I'll know enough to become a warrior._

Zak laughed, furiously tickling the boy in his arms. "Gotcha!" he cried triumphantly.

"Leggo leggo leggo!" David squirmed, trying to escape his father's grip, giggling frantically. "Stop it that tickles leggo!"

Isha straightened it again automatically. "Stop that. Will any other Protoss come here, to pick you up then? We'll all miss you if that happens..."

_Only if I ask,_ Nag'Jihn answered, pulling at his tunic again.

"Ha! I win!" David cried triumphantly, striking a pose at the door.

"Okay... you won... cut me some slack, will ya?" Zak finished the rest of the distance, panting, leaning against the doorframe to rub his leg.

"Wuss," Isha called, grinning.

"Hee! Momma called you a wuss, Daddy!"

Shaking her head and laughing, she turned to Nag'Jihn again and yanking on his tunic. "Stop it!"

Nag'Jihn stepped back, batting Isha's hand away. _Fine, then!_ He whipped the tunic off up over his head and folded it, tucking it under his arm. He stood in his loincloth, feet firmly planted in a defiant stance, glaring at Isha. _Can't mess with it now, can you?_

"I'm not a wuss," Zak grumbled, shooing David inside. "C'mon, help me set the table."

"Mmkay..." David said, then turned back and shouted "WUSS!" at the top of his lungs before running into the house giggling.

"Oh, you..." She tackled him, yanking his feet out from under him. "Hah! You need to train more..." she stuck her tongue out at him before trotting into the house, taking his tunic with her.

Nag'Jihn hopped to his feet, grumbling and dusting himself off before sulking after her.

"Is Nag gonna eat dinner with us?" David asked, setting a plate on the table.

"Nag doesn't eat, David."

"Well, can he stay anyway? Maybe spend the night or something?"

Zak shrugged. "Fine by me. Ask your mother. And make sure Nag wants to, okay?"

"Kay." David trotted up to Isha. "Momma, can he stay? Why d'you gots his shirt?"

"I don't see why not." Isha waved the tunic and smiled. "He was being naughty and got his shirt all clean. Nag'Jihn, do you want to stay tonight? You can sleep in David's room." She took the tunic to a back room and began to repair and iron it.

"Yeah! Sleep in my room, Nag!"

Nag'Jihn shrugged. _I don't see why not..._ He pointed at Isha. _But I'm not leaving until I get that back!_

"Yay! Come on, Nag!" David grabbed his foster brother's hand, yanking him across the house (which, lucky for Nag'Jihn, wasn't very far).

Zak shook his head. "Quite a pair, aren't they?" He set down the last fork before walking behind Isha, giving her a loose hug.

"He's gonna be pissed when he sees you're cleaning it."

She shrugged, leaning back to kiss his cheek. "So? He's not going to be filthy the whole time; I don't care that he's living 'as his ancestors did.'" She paused, thinking. "Though I need to get his loincloth, too. Make sure he takes a shower tonight, so I can clean that."

David pulled him into his room. "Phew, you smell!'

_I bathed just yesterday,_ Nag'Jihn insisted.

David wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, but you didn't use soap."

_I don't have soap._

"Eew!"

_What? I still don't smell as bad as you do!_

"I don't smell!"

_You smell like Terran._

"Momma, Nag says I smell!"

"Both of you smell!" Zak shouted over his shoulder. "You mom wants you both to take a bath tonight! Wash your hair this time, David!"

David pouted, then poked Nag. "Let's go outside. I think they're gonna kiss again. It's gross."

_Great idea! Hide and seek sound fun?_ Nag'Jihn knelt down, letting David climb on his back.

"Yeah!"

Shaking her head, Isha set his tunic out to dry. "Let's see... takti bird, wild carrots... Zak, did you mash those potatoes?"

David leapt off Nag'Jihn's back, shooting into the forest. "Can't catch meeee!"

Nag'Jihn sighed. _Not this again..._ He chased after David. _I said hide and seek, not tag!_

Zak blinked. "Um... yeah. Mashed potatoes." He dug out a pot of white, chunky glop. "Forgot the butter. We got butter?"

Smiling, Isha shook her head and chuckled. "In the fridge. Don't worry about it; tell Naggy and David dinner's ready. I'll finish this." She began to put serving dishes on the table, followed by steaming bird and pale carrots.

Zak nodded, then leaned out the door and bellowed, "Come on in, guys! Dinner!"

David waved back to his dad, then jerked Nag'Jihn along again. "Momma made fried takti for us. Hey, since you can't eat, can I have your piece?"

Nag'Jihn blinked. _Um, yes, certainly..._

David beamed and eagerly sat down at the table. Or tried to, anyway, but Zak stopped him and demanded he wash his hands. With a grumble, David obeyed.

Dinner went fairly smoothly, if you count David talking repeatedly with his mouth full, and grumbling that he had to wash dishes with his parents.

"All right. Bath time, both of you. Don't you dare sneak away, Naggy."

"Yeah, Naggy," David agreed. "Dun sneak away. If I gotta, you gotta."

_Stop calling me that,_ the young Protoss grumbled, sitting cross-legged in the center of the couch.

Zak rustled David's hair. "You first, squirt. Let's go."

"I'm old enough to go by myself," he whined. "Momma, can I please go by myself?"

"If you actually wash your hair this time."

"I will! I promise!"

"Well?"

"Yeah!"

"All right, go ahead. If your hair smells when you come out, it's back to bathing with one of us, got it?"

"Okay." David disappeared, then came back out, dripping and sudsy, forty minutes later. He passed the smell-test, although got a short lecture for not rinsing all the way.

Nag'Jihn was next. Reluctantly, he trudged into the bathroom. Moments later, a loud telepathic curse was heard, and jumped out—naked save for a towel—pointing at the shower head.

_It tried to kill me, it did! Gods, do you heat your water on the surface of a star?!_

"Momma, what does 'khas nava dah' mean?"

Isha coughed, trying not to burst out laughing. "I, um... Nag, you shouldn't... say... that... around David. Um, David, I don't know. Zak, could you...?" Turning, she quickly exited before she started laughing.

Zak rolled his eyes. "Red is hot, blue is cold."

Nag'Jihn blinked. _What kind of an idiot came up with that? Oh, sorry..._ He vanished into the bathroom.

About an hour later, things finally settled down. David was asleep in bed, Nag'Jihn perched (asleep) cross-legged on the floor next to it.

Zak looked at them fondly, rubbing Isha's back. "He's growing up so fast..."

"I know." She leaned back, taking out a needle and pricking herself with it. She closed her eyes at the pleasure the drug gave her, then got up. Padding quietly to the bed, she slid the needle into David's neck.

David smiled, rolling in his sleep as Isha pulled it away. She came back to her husband, eyes pained. "We're going to have to teach him how to do it himself soon."

"I know," Zak sighed, embracing her warmly. "But it's not so bad..."

_Not yet, anyway,_ he thought bitterly. He still hadn't told Isha that David had accidentally heard his thoughts before, and he'd caught the boy "talking like Nag" more than once, scolding him for doing so each time...

_Not yet._

"Come on, it's time we hit the sack, too..."

Isha nodded, and together they made their way to their bedroom.

She glanced up at him. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," Zak said.

"Liar."

"Well..." Zak sighed, climbing into bed. "You know David's gonna be a lot of trouble when he's older..."

"Yes, I know that. All children are, so I've read. And heard, from other mothers." She climbed in after him and snuggled against his chest. "And fathers. I'm so happy David loves Nag'Jihn, though..."

Zak smiled slightly. "Yeah, they're pretty close..."

_But Nag'Jihn's not human. David doesn't have any human friends. Not any good ones, anyway..._

He shook the thought from his mind. He'd learned his lesson—people will do what they want, no matter how hard you try to control them. Isha had taught him that several times over...

_Shit, has it really been seven years?_

It seemed like ages ago that he'd found that strange girl out on the rocks, yet he could picture it like it was yesterday...

"Hey, Isha?" he said, finally breaking the silence.

"Mm?" she mumbled quietly, nestled tightly next to him, her eyes peacefully closed.

"Thanks for staying with me."

FINIS


End file.
